


Heartlines

by bluegraywilde



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:35:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24903187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegraywilde/pseuds/bluegraywilde
Summary: Orphaned at a young age, Merlin is sent to Camelot to be put into the care of a distant relation, Gaius, the Court Physician. He is assigned as the personal manservant to his (decidedly one-sided) rival and nemesis, Arthur. Tensions of all kinds ensue as rot within and without threatens all of Camelot.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. The Magician

_I can’t believe I’m really going to have to serve that prat._ Merlin supposed that attitude wasn’t the healthiest way to begin a working relationship that presumably would last the rest of his soon to be miserable life. _Oh lord we really are living in the Dark Ages._

He could hear Gaius now saying how much of an honor it was to be chosen as the personal manservant to the Prince of Camelot, how he should be grateful for the opportunity, and the influence he could have as Arthur’s closest companion- _gag me-_ most likely because that was precisely what Merlin was trying to tune out. 

Once assured Gaius’ sage wisdom had finished unspooling, Merlin asked the obvious. “That’s all well and good, but why can't I just remain on as your apprentice?” That was more or less what Merlin had been doing in an unofficial capacity since he was sent to court, as an orphaned boy with no relations and no prospects.

Gaius sighed. Perhaps he should be more concerned by how frequent an occurrence that was. “Merlin, this is a directive from the prince himself, cosigned by King Uther himself, you cannot ignore it.” _Watch me._

Living at court had done much to break down the mystique of monarchy. Uther was arbitrary, narrow-minded, and quick to rage. One could scarcely believe he was the leading candidate to reunite Albion and defeat the marauding Saxons. _And Angles and Jutes… oh my._

Already a plan was forming, if he made a mess of his duties, he'd likely be released from his bondage by a frustrated Arthur. And if he had to bear a verbal lashing or two to do that, well it would still be worth it. 

“Fine.” It took everything Merlin had not to cross his arms, roll his eyes, and go sulk somewhere very high on the battlements with the gargoyles. _I could jump, put an end to this farce before it even begins._

“Your acquiescence is noted but unnecessary.” _Oh Gaius must you make this more difficult. I know I have no choice._ It seemed very much to Merlin that duty was the death of choice. “You are to report to the prince’s quarters posthaste.”

Merlin gave a stiff little bow in acknowledgment and left Gaius’ apothecary-cum-living quarters with all the willingness of someone about to be executed. _Never thought that would ever be the more merciful option._

Merlin made his way down stone passageways, ambling without anything remotely resembling haste. He paused every so often to examine the elaborate tapestries designed to break up the monotony of the stonework, as if he had never seen them before rather than thousands of times. _Re-runs the lot of them._

Any guards he passed stared straight on, right through him. _The only advantage of being of the serving class is invisibility._ And given his new position this state of affairs was hardly likely to change. He’d be more invisible than ever. No one would give him so much as a first glance, let alone a second, when there was the shining prince of Camelot in their midst. _Gag me._

He was in the midst of studying a highly implausible scene of Uther Pendragon on horseback slaying a fire breathing dragon when a voice called from behind him, “A little birdie told me that you’re going to be Arthur’s personal manservant. I suppose some congratulations are in order.”

He turned round to see Gwen, fresh-faced and carrying some fresh-picked flowers from the gardens in a basket at her side. She was more or less his only friend within these castle walls, at least the same age as him.

He stuck his tongue out at her. “Oh don’t start, Gaius already gave me the whole you’ll bring honor to us all spiel.” _Far more likely I implicate them in sedition and some light treason._

Merlin mimed gagging as Gwen let out a soft unwilling laugh and then he said, “I mean you get to be companions with Lady Morgana, now that’s something worthy of celebration.”

Morgana was everything Arthur was not: well read, diplomatic, and quick-witted without being cruel. Unfortunately, being the daughter of a deceased nobleman, even one who was a close comrade of the king, did not a successor make. _The only queen Camelot will want is the kind that rears children for their precious future king._ “Care to trade?”

Gwen blushed. “Something tells me Morgana would not care for a boy in her inner sanctum.” _Oh I wouldn’t be too sure, palace life can be so monotonous, surely a change of pace would be welcome._

“Besides isn’t this what you always wanted? A chance to get up close to our prince and study his faults so you may regale me with them in exacting detail later.”

Gwen was always accusing him of being obsessed with Arthur. _As if._ If he never gave another passing thought to that goddamn prince, it would be far too soon. It was hardly his fault that Arthur (quite wrongly) thought himself God’s gift to chivalry, knighthood, and ladies. And if Merlin was the only one willing to take it upon himself to dispute this grotesquely inaccurate portrait, so be it.

“I’ve yet to be convinced this is not some kind of punishment.” _Cooked up by Gaius when I called him a stubborn old goat one too many times._ “And like I didn’t want to be chained to him.”

“Yes, well…” She glanced away so as to avoid his gaze. Wait, she didn’t believe him. Why didn’t she believe him? “I need to get these to Morgana before she beings to wonder what’s taking so long. I’d suggest you do the same and report to Arthur before you get fired.” _Potentially literally based on how they treat heretics. Oh the joys of monarchy._

Merlin wistfully watched Gwen leave, desperately wishing he could follow her. Although he supposed Arthur and Morgana saw enough of each other, he would still have plenty of opportunities to see her, even on duty. _Small blessings._

Merlin stood outside the threshold of the prince’s quarters, working up the willpower to just go in and get it over with. _It being the beginning._

Surprisingly there were no guards at the door, which denied him the peer pressure of an audience. Finally, more out of boredom than anything else, he approached the door. One experimental push later that revealed it to be unlatched and Merlin stepped into his future.

“For future reference people generally announce themselves before barging into rooms that are not their own.” _Which is why you treat everywhere in the castle like your personal playground… which actually on second thought, I suppose it is._

A flash of indignation ran through him. “I was summoned.”

“And you’re late.”

_Fair…. but also how does he know I wasn’t saving a cat from a tree or helping an old lady safely cross the road or even foiling assassins. Not that I was... but theoretically._

Arthur stood erect, broad shoulders set back, his golden locks fitted under a thin princely circlet. He was dressed in chainmail, which seemed like it would be quite uncomfortable for casual wear, not that Merlin would have any idea. If Arthur’s manner was any more stiff, the sword at his side would have a matching number between his legs. 

“I want to set expectations early,” said Arthur, in a well-practiced authoritative voice, one could say regal but Merlin would call it pompous, that belied the fact he was the same age as Merlin, barely fourteen. “Lest you later accuse me of being a cruel taskmaster.” _That was a given regardless. It comes with the territory of servitude._

“You will be my sparring partner, ride and hunt with me, maintain my living quarters, collect any item that I should require, and otherwise obey any and all commands I give without hesitation.” _Oh is that all?_

“Now,” _Oh lord there’s more._ “Any questions? Speak freely.”

Merlin deeply resented the implication that he would need the prince’s permission to do just that and was sorely tempted to take the opportunity to give it voice. _I really don’t have much of an instinct for self-preservation now do I._ Merlin bit down on his tongue, lest he let loose a volley of a thousand sarcastic remarks. _Plenty of time for that later._

Merlin reviewed the rather long list of his official duties and realized he was precisely the wrong person for the job. He had no skill at arms and little desire to learn. He didn’t have the heart (or stomach) to harm another living creature for sport. His (well-earned) reputation for being a smart ass among the castle staff hardly spoke to his obedience or discretion.

He found that he did after all have one question.

“Why me?”

Arthur’s frowned, in concentration, clearly taken aback by this line of inquiry. Merlin supposed it wasn’t often that anyone questioned why the prince did anything, so busy were they figuring out exactly how to bend themselves to his vision. _Hardly encourages self-reflection._ Although Merlin probably suffered the opposite affliction. _Forget what they say about idle hands, idle minds overthink themselves to ruin._

As for the question itself, Merlin thought it perfectly fair. As not only a prince of Camelot, but also the heir apparent, Arthur could have had a pick of any companion or servant that he could wish for. The skinny, unremarkable, nearly friendless orphan boy who knew more about plants than swords hardly seemed like the obvious choice. 

Finally after what felt like an eternity, Arthur spoke. “A future king ought to learn from even from the lowliest of his future subjects so as to represent their interests.”

Merlin was left at a loss for words. _I don’t know what I was expecting but generally not being insulted so casually to my face would be a start._

Arthur, not missing a beat, “Now then, let’s get started.”

The following weeks blurred in a whirlwind of activity. Merlin was shocked how easily he fell into the regular rhythm of a routine. _Well as regular a routine can be when serving a mercurial, overactive prince with what appears to be a death wish and daddy issues._

Most of his duties were in fact along the line of things he already did for Gaius. _Oh God, he’s been grooming me for this since the beginning._

Unexpectedly, the most difficult part was dressing Arthur. Despite the fact that Merlin was anything but athletic (reading and passing herbs to Gaius hardly constituted a vigorous exercise routine), he found he was able to keep up with Arthur well enough. Or maybe, more accurately, Arthur was taking pity on him. Merlin had the sneaking suspicion that a wooden dummy would put up more resistance than him on the training field. 

But the dressing, well it was forcibly intimate, even with Arthur always wearing an under-tunic for modesty’s sake. There was no ignoring the well-developed muscles honed by hours of training. Merlin tried to avoid staring, lest Arthur notice and comment upon it, but it was difficult not to notice what was right in front of him.

Merlin did not understand why his pulse seemed to race, that his throat ran dry while sweat collected in the most unfortunate of locations. Perhaps it was just a greater awareness of the inadequacy of being nothing but sinew and bone.

Gwen was always cracking jokes about how he must be a faerie changeling with his odd ears and fine cheekbones. Well at least she did until word reached Uther and he was interrogated for hours before finally being released. _I was eleven._

Merlin’s attempts to sabotage and get demoted back into true anonymity failed miserably. All his snark and cutting wit were taken for jests like he was the court’s fool. _Which was not in the job description, I really ought to be compensated for it._

Similarly, Arthur seemed charmed by all his bumbling. Or if by chance he wasn’t laughing at Merlin’s expense, he seemed to take equal pleasure in dressing him down. _He always seems to come out on top._

Merlin just threw up his hands in frustration and had resigned himself to the fact that this was in fact his life now. _God help me._

Given the job required him to be Arthur’s constant companion from more or less dawn to dusk, and on a couple memorable occasions in which they had managed to get lost in the woods, well into the night, they got to talking. It wasn’t really purposeful on Merlin’s part. He had no real desire to dig into the inner workings of so obviously shallow a person. But he soon found that the only thing that would be worse than speaking with the prince would be agonizingly long silences. So he took the conservational bait, hook, line, and sinker.

And frustratingly, infuriatingly, Merlin had to concede that underneath the shiny layers of swagger and ego, Arthur wasn’t so bad. Certainly not the worst thing since the fall of the Roman Empire. _I think._

He had a vision for a more equal Camelot, with knighthood assigned on the basis of merit rather than birth. And a path forward with the war against the Saxons through negotiation to create a grand federation of the disparate Britons to beat back the tide. _He has a brain as well as muscles… who knew._

One night they were just lazing about in his bed after a particularly intense bout of training that had begun sundown. _“I need to be able to fight in all conditions. My future enemies will not be so kind as to always attack at high noon.”_

Arthur seemed to be in particularly magnanimous mood, having shared with Merlin choice bits that Merlin had secured from the kitchens so Arthur need not dine with his father and Morgana in the Great Hall. Merlin blamed it on the wine that Catherine had kindly slipped him. 

He had not personally partaken, knowing from Gaius that alcohol loosened inhibitions. And as it was, he was toeing the line on how much sass was acceptable in response to a prince’s command.

Between the satisfying ache of his tired muscles, the full belly, and the warm surroundings, Merlin could see himself easily drift off into slumber. If not for the lightning like charge being generated by the close proximity to the prince at his side. _It is hard to properly relax around one’s rival._

Unprompted, Arthur burst the warm, comfortable quiet, “Would you want to know the real reason I chose you?” There was an unfamiliar tension in his voice. One could almost call it nervousness if not for the thought of Prince Arthur the Bold having nerves being patently ridiculous.

“Oh there was more? I was not just the most immediately available lowly subject at hand?”

“You can never just shut up.” Sitting up, he good-naturally ribbed at Merlin, who propped himself up on his forearms so Arthur wouldn’t loom quite so large. “I would say it aloud but some things are actually easier to say without words.”

Before Merlin could react, Arthur leaned in. Merlin’s field of vision became filled with those brilliant ocean eyes, a cheekbone, and then absolutely nothing as they collided lips finding lips.

And although he hadn’t the faintest idea of what he was doing, Merlin found himself kissing Arthur back. Properly and willingly mind you, it wasn’t like some misguided sense of duty that he so obviously lacked suddenly decided to kick in.

He tasted sweet, presumably of the same character as the wine. Arthur’s hands planted themselves on either sides of Merlin’s hips, leaving his arms to encase Merlin. Merlin’s mind was a blank slate on fire, like melting wax. He only knew that he did not want it to end.

They broke apart. Arthur had a dreamy look in his eyes, a descriptor that proved quite literal as he nodded off before Merlin’s eyes. This sudden sleep did nothing to assuage Merlin’s suspicious that this was some elaborate prank or dream. _Or nightmare? I think I enjoyed that kiss a little too much for it to be a nightmare._

Merlin knew how these things were supposed to go. Young boys were supposed to find girls vaguely unappealing and kind of gross until suddenly they didn’t like a torch suddenly catching fire. Then they’d pick one, usually for a suitable dowry in land or gold or in kind but sometimes for honor or a laugh or passion and to make babies who’d repeat the whole cycle over again. _Grow, fuck, procreate, and die. A human lifespan broken down to its bare essentials._

And well, the stories for princes were much the same, only with the fate of entire kingdoms hanging in the balance. And passion was even less likely to figure into it with the acceptable pool so drastically limited by birth and standing. Princes certainly weren’t supposed to kiss serving boys. _And I’m not supposed to have kissed back._

He guessed, if he were pressed to name a girl that he found attractive, he’d say that he found Morgana pleasing to the eye, but in the same idle way one appreciates a sunset or a gemstone. _And she is safe because there is no chance that she’ll ever notice me. I’ll never be threatened with consummating my lukewarm desire._

His surroundings suddenly brightened. Merlin panicked that someone would have entered to see him sitting beside the sleeping prince. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the source reflecting in the mirror. _My ears… they’re glowing crimson._

Merlin fled Arthur’s chambers immediately. There was only one man who could possibly help him. Now it was just a matter of reaching him without being noticed. At this hour of night, perhaps they’d be mistaken for torches at a distance, and he’d be able to run faster not trying to (and failing to) cover his ears. So he made a mad dash through familiar corridors made sinister by the faint red glow that followed him.

“Gaius,” he whispered, hoping to avoid accidentally alerting the night watch that something was afoot. Alas Gaius slept on like a gargoyle. _But when he’s awake, he’s so sensitive, I swear he could read my mind._ “Gaius, help!”

There was a soft groan that indicated to Merlin he had finally gotten through. With his eyes still shut, Gaius started rubbing his temples. “Merlin my boy, what could possibly be of such urgency that it could not wait until mor-” Gaius opened his eyes, trailing off as he took in the obvious problem.

He sat up with a curious look of concentration on his face, as if he were searching for and failing to find something to say. Finally, right before Merlin could no longer bear it, Gaius uttered, “ _Tywyllu_.”

Instantly upon hearing the word, despite having no understanding of its meaning, Merlin’s ears dimmed. He could still feel the flush of blood roaring in his ears, but they were no longer unnaturally lit up like glowworms.

They now sat in the proper darkness of night, silent but for the sound of their own breathing. Merlin was too alert to even think about sleeping, and Gaius made no move to dismiss him and return to rest. 

Unable to bear the suspense much longer, Merlin asked the obvious question, “What was that?” He didn’t know whether he was referring to his ears or what that word did, but obviously they were from one and in the same phenomenon.

“Forbidden knowledge.” _Make it sound more desirable why don’t you._ “And should word get out of that little stunt I just pulled, I would be burned at the stake with nary a tear shed from Uther Pendragon for all my years of service.”

“Wait that was magic?” Merlin had always assumed it would be more impressive than spontaneously glowing ears given how paranoid Uther was about it. A party trick could hardly bring a kingdom to its knees and did not seem worthy of the genocidal intolerant campaign that had been waged for years and years.

“I… dabble.” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “Dabbled,” he corrected himself forcefully. “In some esoteric branches of knowledge in my study of medicine. I survived the Great Purge by renouncing the Old Religion and all its rites and practices.”

Gaius did not elaborate further. And as much as he wanted to, Merlin did not press. From all the gory and fiery stories that were told, Merlin was sure Gaius had no wish to relive those days, even in the safety of memory.

I always suspected you had latent abilities.” _And you never thought to tell me?_ “I thought sending you away from me would keep the magic within asleep and afford you a modicum of protection. Ignorance would be your greatest shield. I see now that I was wrong.”

Merlin was disturbed to see a man of learning, one who had spent these past years teaching Merlin that knowledge was the greatest weapon one could hone, praise ignorance as if it weren’t a paper tiger.

“I will teach you a modicum of control, so we won’t have any repeat incidences.” _You say as if I want my ears lit up like a bonfire at every possible moment._

But still Merlin was excited at the potential of what this newfound ability could do. And if Gaius taught him control, well how to use it would be up to him.

“Concealment is the only way to survive. For if they were to see you for what you are, they would declare you monstrous. And you know as well as I that monsters do not live long within the borders of Camelot.” _Tell that to the Saxons._

“What triggered it? Your ears.”

“Arthur.” Merlin couldn’t elaborate further than that. Not that he would wish to. What had just happened between them would not be profaned by speaking it into mere words. And the confusing jumble of feelings jostling within him needed to be sorted out in the privacy of his own mind on his own schedule. 

He hurriedly added on, anticipating Gaius’ concern, “Don’t worry he passed out before they started doing that. My secret is safe.”

“For now,” said Gaius, voice grave. _And on that cheery note, time to sleep._

Merlin’s mind and body alike were distinctly uncooperative. Like his eyes were shut the whole time, but his brain just kept on replaying the incident over and over and over again. Thankfully his ears didn’t start glowing again because he certainly couldn’t remember whatever magic word Gaius had said to undo them.

The next morning, still exhausted, he went through the motions of an ordinary day. When he entered Arthur’s chambers, he was surprised to see Arthur still passed out. Normally he was already awake, doing this or that exercise, admiring himself in the mirror (no one had the right to look that good bedraggled), or otherwise defying the natural order where sleep was a treasured gift to be enjoyed until the sun was, at the very least, completely visible above the horizon.

“Rise and shine.” Merlin opened the still drawn curtains without mercy. It wasn’t often he got to taunt Arthur while being completely aboveboard in terms of his duties.

Arthur groaned, more guttural for still being enveloped in the heavy hands of sleep. “That is unnecessarily bright.”

“You mean the sun?” Which as far as Merlin was concerned was of fairly consistent brightness (or not) on this rainy misbegotten island.

Arthur moaned in the affirmative as he tried to use a pillow to shield his eyes from the incoming rays of light.

Merlin approached the bed, the site of last night’s… incident. The memory came rushing back unbidden and with it a rosy flush of Merlin’s cheeks, thankfully of the non-magical kind. He had to know what was going on in Arthur’s head. Was it to become a regular thing? Or a one-off? How much further could they go? Was there even a “they” to be worked up about?

“Exactly how much of last night do you remember?” Merlin was pretty sure memory loss was a side effect of drinking too much alcohol.

“Merlin, please make your meaning plain, I have the most monstrous of headaches.”

“Well, when we…” A false start. _Why must this be so difficult?_ “When we… you know.” He couldn’t even gesture weakly, Arthur’s confusion seemed genuine. Or maybe he was a better actor than Merlin gave him credit for. _I certainly had no inkling he had those kinds of feelings for me before last night._

Arthur’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, the blue taking on the character of ice chips, hard and cold. _And that’s why this is so difficult._ “I have no idea what you are attempting to imply. Just this once, I will be generous and assume you are confusing a dream with reality.” _Of that we can both agree._

“Come now, we have much to do.”

Merlin trudged on behind him, convinced more than ever that Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot was an insufferable prat.


	2. Wheel of Fortune

Merlin would rather be out hunting for the Questing Beast again. _Was that the first time Arthur had to be brought back from near-death? Or merely the most memorable?_

The truly bizarre snake head and leopard body combination had certainly left an impression. _I had not thought the descriptions in the chronicles were literal._ He soon learned this was the pattern with such things. If anything, the world was so much more bizarre and stranger than could be captured in mere words.

Instead he was stuck sulking at the base of the raised dais in the throne room where Uther sat upon his throne flanked by Arthur and Morgana in slightly less decorated chairs. Silently fuming, he was forced to watch as a train of eligible ladies were introduced to Arthur for the purposes of betrothal and an eventual wedding. _And bedding._

He was old enough now, and comfortable enough in his own skin, to recognize that the small creature gnawing its way through his innards was called jealousy. Jealous that these women could be so bold as to ask for Arthur’s hand and affections, while his feelings languished under perpetual lock and key.

Not that he would ever be in a position to marry Arthur. Or even be a closer companion than a mere friend. _At best. He blows so hot and cold it’s difficult to tell if he even considers me that most of the time._

They had saved each other’s lives half a dozen times in as many years at each other’s sides. Not that Arthur had noticed Merlin’s own herculean efforts behind the scenes. And it was hardly like Merlin could take credit without revealing his magic and being burned a heretic. _Knowing Uther, even saving his precious son wouldn’t provide an ounce of clemency._

He could not even trust Arthur for it seemed if in nothing else but the prosecution of magic, he was Uther’s son and able enforcer. _I am complicit in this._ Every time he thought of it, it was all he could do not to shake in rage and despair.

His only consolation was that supposedly (given his source was an imprisoned dragon, pinch of salt and all that) Arthur would usher in a golden age such as Albion had not seen since the halcyon days before the fall of the Roman Empire. But Merlin now knew how truly dark it could get before the dawn.

Which would also be an accurate description of his love life. _Or decided lack thereof._

Merlin was still haunted by that night, the memory perfectly preserved in amber. A high-water mark of intimacy never to be reached again, although it was not for lack of wishful dreaming. _You’d think with magic I could simply will anything into existence._

Merlin would be lying if he hadn’t considered it. But any magic that manipulated matters of the heart and soul was of the darkest and foulest sort. Gaius would offer no guidance, and Merlin had no interest in so hollow and cursed a victory.

He would just have to content himself with admiring from a distance, less physical (just a tad impossible given the gig) than emotional. _Don’t get too close lest I get burned or drowned. Conceal, don’t feel._ Easier said than done.

It had taken him a couple years to work up the courage to tell Gwen about that night. Well not the whole of it. He elided the drunken kiss, but the truth of his crush was somehow easier to say aloud. _Certainly, more believable than the Prince of Camelot making a pass at me._

And to his relief, she had been decidedly nonjudgmental about it. Or rather more precisely, she was nonjudgmental about his attraction to men and (rightfully) questioned as to why he had to choose that particular one to love after. “ _We can’t all make good choices Gwen. I mean haven’t you ever fancied someone you shouldn’t?”_

She had blushed at that question before finally conceding the truth of it. Frustratingly she was mum on who could possibly be triggering those feelings in her heart. _Hardly sporting of her._

Merlin thought it likely one of the knights that were Arthur’s companions. She had spent a great deal of time with them since her own brother was inducted into their order in recognition of his service to Camelot.

There was lucky Leon with his flowing locks and winning smile.

Or maybe puckish Percival, carved like a Grecian statue with endless good humor and a warm heart. 

Or good Gwaine, dark-haired and brooding. On the other hand he seemed openly disdainful of the primacy of noble blood, so that would be no stumbling block. Unless Gwen had some other issue with him.

And of course, there was lust-worthy Lancelot- _I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought about it_ \- suave and handsome with the aura of the exotic after spending some time traveling abroad. He would have half the court as hangers-on if not for Arthur’s own bachelorhood. The only potential wrinkle is that Merlin did get the distinct sense that he could be playing for his team but that just might be wishful thinking.

But Gwen always kept her cards so close to her chest. It could be any of them or none at all. He was determined to figure it out, if only so that he would get his chance to counter her gentle needling about Arthur with some of his own.

Bringing him back to the moment at hand, the herald announced the latest candidate who would-be queen. “Princess Elena of Gawant.”

She was all long, flowing blonde hair and an ill-fitted green dress that she seemed decidedly uncomfortable in. Her movements were stiff and awkward, nearly tripping over her skirts as she approached the dais, distracting from her obvious beauty.

A toady nursemaid accompanied her, a squat gray woman of many years. Merlin didn’t have a clear idea what she brought to the proceedings, beyond by way of contrast. 

“Our two kingdoms have long been allies and friends.” Her voice was high and clear, words flowing with all the grace her body so obviously lacked. “And as my father’s sole heir, a union between our houses would tie that which is united with bread and salt by blood as well.”

“Surely such an ancient friendship has no need for consummation.”

“I challenge you to a horse race to prove my worth. No man in all of Albion rides half as well as me.” Merlin could hear the wink behind those words and cringed. _Is this what flirting is supposed to be like? Pass._

“I have no need for a queen who can ride horses.” Arthur shifted in his seat, throwing his legs over the seat’s arms, leaning back and lounging

Her face fell and then hardened. “Pity that your own steeds will waste away in the paddock.”

“No I believe that will be you instead.” _Cold, cruel, and crude. Uther would be proud._ Arthur didn’t wait for a response and instead addressed the herald, “Next.”

Elena did not avoid the humiliation of tripping on her way out. Although her nurse helped her catch herself before face planting, the further damage to her already wounded pride was already done.

_And another one bites the dust._

Merlin had honestly lost track of the number of ladies dismissed for any litany of reasons, trying Uther’s already quite limited patience. _And mine as well, can we just get this over with???_ The uncertainty was almost worse than the sad reality that after this day, Arthur could never be his. _Not that I have much of chance as it stands._

Merlin knew that being probably the single most eligible bachelor on the entire island afforded Arthur a degree of choice, but it seemed to him that the prince was pushing that particular concept to its absolute limit. Arthur was quick to judge and find fault over the most superficial aspects. No perceived slight was too small to ignore. _Which isn’t entirely unlike his management style at times, it’s a minor miracle I’ve survived this long in his service._

“Lady Helen of Mora.”

She performed a song in Latin, voice hauntingly beautiful, and even Merlin had to concede she was not unpleasant to behold with her dark hair and bright eyes. There was rapturous applause the moment the final note stopped ringing in their ears. 

Arthur broke the spell of silence, “A queen should be seen not heard.”

“My prince…”

Whatever justified reproach or gracious deflection was to follow was left unspoken as Arthur preempted it.

“Apparently this would be queen can’t hear either.” He looked wrong. Sour and small. _Like Uther._ In this moment only the size of their crowns and Arthur’s golden hair outshining Uther’s dull grey separated father and son. “Although I concede you can carry a pretty enough tune.”

“Next.”

“Lady Catrina Tregor.”

Gaius leaned over to Merlin and whispered, “You know I treated her for a bone disease as a child.” _Hardly the most promising start when the job description more or less depends on an impeccable bill of health._

With a perfectly sculpted beehive updo, she had a quiet dignity of that kind one would expect of a nun or a great lady. Or perhaps that was just Merlin projecting the tragedy that had befallen her house upon her. _Slaughtered the lot of them by trolls._

And while undeniably beautiful, she seemed on the older side to be courting Arthur. _Uther seems a closer match._ Merlin thought it odd that the king had never wed again after the death of Queen Ygraine. If not for Morgana’s valiant if somewhat futile efforts at playing the lady of the house, the court would be a travesty without style.

Perhaps the Lady Catrina was depending on the storied Tregor name and the dubious cache of being the last of her line. _No knights, gold, or lands on offer. Just a rusted-out coat of arms and hollowed out titles for a patrimony that no longer exists._

“It is an honor to return to this hallowed hall after so long an absence.”

“I’m confused.”

“About what, Prince Arthur?”

“Is not the purpose of a queen to bear children?”

A handful courtiers sniggered. _He has been thoughtless on occasion. But never this cruel. It’s like a fairy changeling abducted and replaced him._ Which sadly for the state of Merlin’s sanity, was not beyond the realm of possibility. _I’d sooner pull out my hair than have to go hunting for that bloody stamen of a Dropwart flower again._ Magic ingredients or amplifiers could never be something easy or common to find, which annoyingly made sense.

Catrina kept a rather even keel giving the public nature of the insults hurled her way. _Sometimes a prince just needs a good slap._ “I’m still quite capable of producing an heir as any number of physicians could attest.”

“Forgive me for not trusting you over the evidence of my own eyes. Next.”

“Lady Vivian Olafsdotter.” _Yet another blonde._

She was a bright smile with dead eyes that revealed the lie of it. She seemed the type to thank someone for standing still while she readied the dagger to stab them with. As things stood, she shot a venomous glare at the dignitaries lining for having the temerity not to immediately bow down and grovel in her radiant presence.

Merlin noticed that Gwen didn’t flinch and returned it. _You go girl!_

“If you desire beauty, grace, charm, joy…” At this point Merlin started tuning her out as she listed quite possibly every single positive word that she could think of without pausing for so much as a breath. _I think the only thing she left off was modesty._ Although one could tell that on the basis of her attire.

“… then I will be everything you could ever want.” _Oh thank god, she’s done._

“Next.”

She departed like a toddler having a tantrum. _I wonder if she should be more offended that he didn’t even bother to put the energy to casually insult her._ Unlike with the previous targets of Arthur’s tongue lashing, this one probably earned it.

“Princess Mithian of Nemeth.”

She had a classically sculpted face with large, intelligent brown eyes. Merlin already could tell he would not want to be on the receiving end if her gaze should turn cold and analytical.

“Prince Arthur, I have some advice if you would be so amenable.”

“Oh? Do share.” He had the lazy look of a cat in the sun weighing whether a disturbance was worth his full attention.

“I know you’re hunting for a princess. And I have some experience in that department.”

“Go on.” His curiosity was evidently piqued, which was more than could be said for most of the girls he had seen today. _I don’t see it but what do I know._

“You will attract a more favorable response with honeyed words rather than vinegar.”

“And what sweet nothings do you have in mind?”

“Those are meant to be whispered in someone’s ear.”

Arthur leaned forward in his seat, eyes parting from Mithian only for a moment to direct the herald. “We are done here. Send the remaining candidates home.”

The nervous sweat was visible even from where Merlin was standing as the herald kept looking to the true power that be for confirmation before acting. “My prince, there are more ladies waiting in the courtyard for presentation.”

Unsaid was that they had traveled great distances at great expense and to send them away without audience would be a grave insult. A hundred angry fathers armed to the teeth would be battering away at the walls of Camelot seeking vengeance for this slight upon their honor.

“No need. Enough of this farce, I have decided upon my future lady wife.” His eyes were bright with a sudden inspiration. Merlin knew that look well. It usually preceded when he’d have to (secretly of course) magic them to safety lest Arthur get them both prematurely killed.

Mithian looked rather pleased with herself. _As it happens, turns out I am in fact petty enough to resent this._

Uther, who had been unusually reticent throughout this whole circus, just glowering silently over the proceedings, looked quite relieved that Arthur had finally found a candidate to his liking, particularly one so self-evidently well suited to the role.

Arthur descended from the dais, approaching the expectant princess. Merlin was transfixed, seeing the next few years play out in his mind’s eye. An Arthur settled into domesticity and kingship. Growing flabby and grey as his adventuring days ended under the weight of feasting, paperwork, managing couth courtiers and buzzing bureaucrats, and above all the crown. Raising a brood of stubborn, impossible children with her hair and his eyes. Dotting upon Mithian as if the sun rose and fell upon her every whim.

Merlin could not see how he would fit into this family… at least at first. _Oh I would just be the new Gaius. On the periphery. Alone. Only grudgingly listened to, even though I’m correct more oft than not._

But then Arthur just kept on walking and passed her without any kind of acknowledgement. An audible gasp rippled through the court. Mithian could not disguise her own surprise, the mask of her courtesy dropping for a moment. Merlin glanced in Uther’s direction to see his habitual frown deepening into an ugly crease.

Arthur’s stride did not waver as he made his way to the other end of the hall where Sir Elyan stood guard. In the knight’s shadow stood his sister. _Surely he cannot be serious._

“Guinevere Smith, in the sight of God and men alike, I name thee the future Queen of Camelot.” Arthur cast off the solemnity of the moment like a cloak and broke out a winsome smile. “If you’ll have me of course.” Merlin resisted the urge to snort. _He’s always playing at being the roguishly charming type._

Silence.

Gwen swallowed her shock, trying to keep her face as pensive as the waters of Avalon. That she did not tremble under the weight of the gazes upon her was impressive, but then she was never one to frighten easily.

“Prince Arthur, it would be my honor to accept your proposal.” _Traitor._

Silence.

Followed by a confused smattering of half-heated applause mixed in with whispers so loud as to barely qualify as such. All eyes shifted from Arthur and his would-be consort

Uther held up a hand, demanding attention and respectful quiet. “I dismiss all courtiers and guards so I can have a word in private.”

Some seemed eager for the permission to scurry away lest Uther’s rage be unleashed upon them. _No one wants to be collateral damage in a battle between father and son._ Others seemed almost reluctant to miss out on what would self-evidently be a further piece of juicy gossip.

Merlin found himself on the cusp of both camps. Technically speaking as Arthur’s manservant, he served as proxy for the receiving end of any corporal disciplining- _although he’s a little old to be treated like a child. But then again that has never stopped him from acting like one._

Morgana for her part seemed quite eager to be a front row spectator for the dressing down of the millennium. _If she weren’t just a ward, she’d be Uther’s favorite child._ Merlin supposed she also had an interest in keeping Gwen on as her servant. _Good ones are so hard to come by these days as Arthur never tires of reminding me._

Without so much as glancing in her direction, Uther ordered, “Morgana that includes you.”

Shocked, she sputtered out, “But…”

“This affair does not concern you. Now take your leave.” His voice was icy, brooking no dissent, with even the aura of a threat radiating beneath it. 

Morgana did as she was told, although not without grumbling and one last pleading look over her shoulder before departing.

Merlin was surprised at this curt dismissal. Uther usually spoiled Morgana beyond all reason or at the very worst instantly folded to her desires after the slightest bit of resistance on her part.

Gaius tugged at his sleeve, to pull him away from the coming conflagration. And if Gaius, who had managed and survived Uther’s moods for decades did not feel comfortable enough to stay that was reason enough to flee the scene. Merlin started to follow him.

Likely sensing the movement, the full force of Uther’s glare landed upon him, and it was as if the king were Medusa as Merlin froze in place, practically turned to stone.

“No, you stay boy.” _Fuck._

Merlin’s pleading look at Gaius was met by stony silence and the slightest shakes of the head. _I’m on my own._

Normally Merlin wouldn’t have minded being treated like a decorative piece of furniture. _Scratch that more like I could find the silver lining._ Normally that meant he could have used it as an opportunity to have more time to study Arthur with the safety of knowing his full attention would be directed elsewhere. No risk of awkward eye contact or quickly having to pretend to find the nearest available ceiling or floor infinitely fascinating.

But to be party to this conversation, to hear Arthur express his passionate regard for Gwen in the most explicit terms would be far too excruciating. Merlin would rather relive every moment of peril and terror at once. _Well the ones that didn’t involve Arthur._

Arthur and Gwen approached the throne, heads held high and arms locked together in support and solidarity. She pointedly wouldn’t meet his gaze or so much as glance in his direction. Both she and Arthur only had eyes for Uther. _What exactly does Uther think I’m contributing to the proceedings that couldn’t be supplied by a well-placed sculpture?_

Rather than immediately unleash the volcanic rage clearly roiling beneath the surface, Uther Pendragon finally achieved enough composure to speak, voice tight. “I will not stand for it.”

“Then it is a good thing you are seated Father because it is happening with or without your consent. I am Camelot’s future, and I will have my due sooner or later.”

While obviously irritated with this course of events- _it should be me_ \- part of Merlin was living for the high court drama. And any implication that Arthur would break from Uther was more than welcome.

“I would sooner see the fall of my dynasty than the attachment of your person to someone so self-evidently beneath your dignity and worth. Do not forget that I can disinherit you with a stroke of a quill.” _An empty threat if I’ve ever heard one._

There were no other serious candidates. The pair of them were the last Pendragons living. For all Uther’s bluster, Merlin could not see such a vainglorious and proud man to anyone but his own flesh and blood. 

Arthur’s whole body radiated a seriousness of purpose. His feet were planted to the stone floor. The positioning of his limbs was precise, deliberate, and unshakable like a statue entitled Defiance of a Son upon its plinth. “You won’t change my mind Father.”

Uther waved his hand dismissively, the movement half-hearted and performative. “Oh that I know well enough by now. I know you think me old and out of touch, but I have eyes and ears like any man.”

Arthur frowned, deflating ever so slightly, evidently confused by Uther’s seemingly unilateral disarmament. Merlin waited for the other shoe to drop, knowing Uther wouldn’t have gone through the theatrics of a private word without reason. _He has some ace up his sleeve, something bigger and scarier than disinheritance._

“Which is why I won’t be speaking with you. Or that… girl,” Uther said ending in a sneer as if being forced to acknowledge Gwen was some trial. _You can’t even bring yourself to speak her name, how charming._ “The pair of you may reflect upon your respective choices in the antechamber and consider recanting this foolhardy choice while I have a word with your manservant.”

_Wait, what!?_


	3. Judgement

“I’m sure you’re confused as to why I went to all this trouble just to pull aside a mere manservant for a private word.”

Merlin was unsure whether Uther expected a response or not. _Royals do have a nasty habit of monologuing in a series of rhetorical questions._ And they were quick to snap whether one answered or didn’t. _Impossible and exhausting the lot of them._ He opted to split the difference and merely nod in confirmation.

Uther’s eyes flickered in disdainful acknowledgement. “I will cut to the quick.” _You sure have a funny way of showing it, given the theatrics._

Merlin remembered how much of a trial it was just moments ago for Uther to recognize Gwen’s existence. Surely it would be that much harder to treat the lowly orphan boy that his son had chosen to be his closest companion (allegedly) as a human being.

“You seem to have some ‘influence’ over my son.” Uther practically shuddered as he spoke the words aloud. Merlin half expected him to follow them with hand gestures to ward off evil.

However only the extreme gravity of the situation prevented Merlin from bursting out in laughter. As it stood, he had to swallow his mirth lest Uther take offence. _Influence?! Over that pig-headed prat. His head would sooner fly off from the rest of him than listen to a word I have to say on just about anything._ Merlin only had a lifetime’s worth of near-death experiences because Arthur didn’t understand the word “No” to back himself up.

Whatever reaction Uther had been expecting had not occurred, so he went on, “Surely someone as common as you cannot be blind to it. You would take advantage of him in a heartbeat.” _Yes, yes I would, just not in the way you’re thinking._

Uther was making it incredibly difficult for Merlin to treat this situation with the seriousness it demanded. Especially now that the image of just exactly how he would take advantage of Arthur was plastered across his mental landscape. _For self-preservation, if nothing else, please focus._

He did his level best to sound stupid rather than insolent. _Not hard when he probably already thinks I’m an idiot._

“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” _Especially considering as far as you’re concerned, I’m perfectly ordinary, not a magical bone in my body._

Uther sighed, before hissing, “Convince him to drop the girl. He can have his pick among the noble ladies who have presented themselves as candidates. It can be a random draw for all I care so long as one of them is a queen and they make a little prince when the time comes.” _Well can’t exactly get involved in that last part without things getting awkward incredibly fast._

Merlin didn’t know what not-literally-magic words he could possibly say to get that to happen. What were the coerced words of a common manservant compared to the threats Uther hurled Arthur’s way like lightning bolts just moment ago?

Summoning from the deepest, emptiest pits of his enthusiasm (have already exhausted multiple lifetimes worth in service to Arthur), and wearing his best fake smile, Merlin declared, “I will do my best.”

A shadow passed over Uther’s face. “Oh, I’ll be sure of it.” _Love that not at all unnerving vote of confidence._ “For know this boy, should you fail, banishment is the kindest fate you can expect.” Uther’s eyes were chipped flint, the better to stab Merlin with. _Why do I get the sinking feeling he’s measuring out the precise number of wooden beams required to have me burned alive?_

Given that his life in Camelot, if not his life period, was being threatened, Merlin didn’t really know what the appropriate response was. _I’m at a legitimate loss for words, shame Arthur’s not here to see this._

But he didn’t dare leave, so he was stuck in an impasse, waiting to see if Uther would next demand that he build a bridge to the Continent or steal a star or take the king to the bloody moon. _I have so many taskmasters between Gaius, Uther, and Arthur maybe it would be a blessing in disguise to be banished._

“You are dismissed boy.”

_Well fuck you too._

Merlin retreated from the throne room, head swimming with the implications of what just happened. He barely had time to catch his breath before the second wave of Pendragons was upon him. _They just won’t quit._

“Well out with it, what did my father have to say?”

Merlin didn’t really know where to start. And besides Uther was unlikely to look kindly on Merlin if he revealed to Arthur the true nature of their conversation. _Might as well pick a nice barren island to live out my remaining days now. I hear sea gulls are great conversationalists._

“He just-” In that moment, Merlin’s mind was emptier than the sky on a cloudless day. _You’d think someone who’s keeping a secret his life literally depends on would be a better liar._ Merlin did not whether he was referring to magic or his crush on Arthur. In the moment he couldn’t say which would be the worse offence.

“Actually, on second thought, don’t bother. I would have stayed in the room if I wanted to hear another word out of that mouth.” _Oh thank fuck._

Merlin would breathe a sigh of relief but the hard part was still to come.

“Could I speak with you alone?” His voice sounded fragile to his ears, like a bent reed whistling in the wind. He hated it.

“There’s nothing you have to say to me that Gwen cannot hear.” _I should know by now that asking anything of him directly is like trying to talk to a rock._ The trick was always making sure Arthur thought whatever idea had just seemingly (and miraculously) popped into his head was actually his own. _I really am just a glorified babysitter._

“It’s okay Arthur, I’ll wait. I’m sure he has his own business with me as well.” Gwen’s tone was soothing but her words were tight. _You know what you did._ She left the antechamber before Arthur could protest any further, leaving the two of them, prince and manservant together alone.

Working incredibly hard to keep his hurt feelings from inflecting his voice but most likely failing, Merlin asked, “Why her?”

If he loved her, genuinely, with the heart and passion that gets written into the songs and stories, maybe Merlin could forgive Arthur and resign himself to this. _If I’d actually be able to stick around to see it._

After all would it really be so bad to have his best friend marry his crush? … _yes._

“Why not?” _Wrong answer._ Said so matter-of-factly that Merlin couldn’t believe his ears.

Merlin realized his mouth had fallen agape like a dumb fish. He forced it shut into something resembling a neutral expression.

Regardless Arthur must have noticed something was up as he amped himself into a more jocular mood. “Come on Merlin you saw my father’s reaction. Absolutely priceless. There was hardly a less suitable candidate to be chosen among everyone gathered in that hall.” Arthur shot him an inscrutable look. “Present company excluded of course.”

Merlin scowled internally that his heart fluttered at the idea. Of Arthur proposing to him, even if only in jest. _It’s all a game to him._ Just another front in the war he wages with Uther because daddy issues. Never mind the collateral damage, if they’re not noble they’re not people. And a sad small part of Merlin wouldn’t even mind being used like that.

Still… _she’s better than a thousand of this version of you._

“So you’re using her,” he said flatly, trying to avoid letting his judgment seep through.

“Don’t be like that.” Arthur frowned. “I’m raising her above her station. She’ll never want for anything ever again.” _Except for someone who loves her._

And Merlin knew precisely how much that could press on a person’s heart. _I can’t bear the weight._

“Plus, I’m sparing her from being at Morgana’s beck and call till her final breath.” _A fate that’s good enough for me apparently._

It was not and never going to be the life he would have chosen for himself. But Arthur at his best was a wonder to behold, like a sunny day in winter. There was something in the way Arthur dismissed and demeaned the role that rankled.

“But does she know the chalice she intends to drink from is poisoned?”

Arthur bent over in laughter, but Merlin stood there dumb not getting the joke. When he had sufficiently recovered, Arthur scoffed, “Merlin, you’re so…” He gestured at the air, looking for the correct word. Merlin was sure it would be an insult of some kind. _Maybe it’ll be one I haven’t heard before._

“Dramatic.” _Says the prince who chose a common bride before the entire court and a train of noble ladies to spite dear old dad._

“Better dramatic than cruel.”

“Enough,” Arthur practically growled, the mirth draining from him. _He thought this another stage in the game._ “I don’t have to justify myself to anyone. Especially to you.” He pointed an accusatory finger Merlin’s way to emphasize his words. “I’ve made my bed and now I’ll happily lie in it.” _Gross._

“Maybe, just for one minute, you could consider how your actions impact others besides yourself and stop being such a pompous ass.”

It had been awhile since Merlin had pushed at the limits of what a mere servant could say to a Prince of Camelot. He usually walked right up to the line and no further, but just now he bolted right past it. Perhaps the prospect of banishment made him brave. He wouldn’t leave anything left unsaid. _Well almost anything._

“Merlin, tell me, do you know how to walk on your knees?” _Don’t threaten me with a good time._

“No.”

“Well unless you want me to stage a forcible demonstration, you are dismissed.”

Merlin heard the echo of Uther in those words. _I’ve lost him. Truly and forever._

It didn’t much matter. Uther would see him gone. He needn’t worry about repairing what probably didn’t even exist in the first place. _I was always convenient and expendable from the start._

The ghost of the memory of that kiss washed over him and with it that same feeling of confused lust that dare not speak its name. _Okay maybe not the start but certainly ever since that night._

Merlin did as he was told, leaving the antechamber to find Gwen waiting for him in the hall.

He just felt overwhelmingly stupid and slow. No wonder she played coy with the object of her affections with him. Yes, a match between her and Arthur would have been seemed impossible before today but it was infinitely more plausible than Merlin being able to act on his feelings without rejection. 

“Well do what you must.” She seemed resigned to him chewing her out. _How un-Gwen like._ It gave Merlin some pause.

“You knew I had feelings for him,” he spat out. “But that did not stop you from hiding yours from me. As if I would be too delicate to handle it.” _Gaius and Gwen always treat me as if I were made of glass when I’m more powerful than either of them._

It was the thing he liked best about Arthur. That he never held back. That he trusted that Merlin would rise to any occasion. Still a sinister voice in the back of his mind whispered. _Is it because he has faith in you or because he doesn’t care if you break?_

“You’re hardly mounting the strongest case for your emotional stability right now,” she dryly noted. _Fair enough._

That remark deflated him somewhat, although Merlin felt perfectly justified in his outrage. Two of the three people he would consider closest to him had conspired behind his back. _And she’s the only one who understands the full extent of her offence._

But he couldn’t be the only one hurting. The only one with an open wound in place of a beating heart. It wasn’t fair. “You must know he doesn’t love you. He’s just trying to piss off daddy.”

Gwen gave him a pitying look. “You’re not the only one seeing love’s labor lost.”

He did not understand her meaning. He narrowed his eyes, sensing some trick or ploy to defuse him. To deflect from her transgression. To rebound his own anger on himself. _As if that isn’t the ordinary state of affairs._

“Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Well apparently since I’m denser than the jewels in your future crown you do.” He hated playing the part of the fool. So many at court seemed to treat him precisely like that, as if his head was empty but for japes that it was not entirely clear he was in on or not.

“I love Lancelot you dolt.”

“Oh.” His cheeks flushed red, as the realization that he had been making a complete and utter ass of himself in front of his best friend sunk in. _And knowing me, likely won’t be the last time._

“How does Lancelot feel? About… you know.” Despite everything going on, it was still too large to say aloud. _Her feelings should she be braver than me and speak them aloud. And an engagement to a prince that encloses her heart in chains of iron that only death will release._

“What does that matter now?” Gwen snapped, before collapsing in on herself, sliding down the wall onto the floor. “I know my place in this world, Merlin. I could not refuse my prince. No matter the cost.” Her voice shook, tears welled in the corner of her eyes. She was practically trembling.

“Neither of you deserve an unhappy marriage.” He did not say those words as a meaningless comfort. Gwen should have the freedom to pursue Lancelot, even if it only would end in heartbreak. Arthur should be able to do as he wills without always having one eye on Uther’s reaction.

“And you don’t deserve but we can’t always get what we want.”

Seized by a sudden impulse, he confessed to her, “I’m to be banished.”

“What?” She started to attention, her apathetic manner morphing into confusion. “That’s not…” She trailed off; her brow furrowed in concentration. “Why?”

“Uther thought I could convince Arthur to break the betrothal where he failed.”

“I’ll put Arthur aside.”

Merlin shook his head. “He’ll just find someone else Uther cannot accept.” _Besides he could easily retaliate. Uther doesn’t care a whit for you._ “And I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”

Arthur was not wrong when he said Gwen would enjoy luxury hitherto denied to her. And she would make an undeniably excellent queen. _Gracious and kind._ _Although all Uther can see is common blood._

Arthur poked his head in, and Merlin’s heart jumped to attention. _Oh good god, has he been listening in the entire time?!_

“If you’re done accosting my future bride, you can clean out the stables.” _Oh he’s still mad._ It was Arthur’s default punishment task when Merlin did something to offend him. It kept him out of sight, especially because it would often take Merlin a day or two to be finally free of the stench.

“Come,” he indicated to Gwen, “we have arrangements to discuss.” _And apparently none the wiser._

Gwen shot Merlin a pained look. “See you later.”

They both knew it was a lie.

Merlin was determined not to spend his final hours in Camelot among literal horseshit. So instead he paced about the castle, returning to all the nooks and crannies he used to hide in as a kid, as if that would shelter him from the coming storm. No one questioned him. He was never sure whether it was because he was in Arthur’s service or he was merely beneath their notice.

His failure was bound to get out sooner rather than later. Arthur did not have a subtle bone in his body. And in his current mood, he would certainly want to flaunt his attachment to Gwen in front of Uther. Better to surrender to the inevitable than live out his last moments in Camelot in the terror of waiting. _Assuming I do live of course…_

His mind made up and resigned to his fate, he quite literally bumped into Gaius, having lost any awareness of his surroundings wandering in his thoughts. _If only I could live there in my mind, in my dreams._

“Merlin, I’ve just been told that Uther intends to banish you. Why did you not tell me at once? I could have tried to mitigate against his mood swings.”

“Because I’m tired Gaius.” He didn’t realize the truth of his words until he had spoken them aloud. He was tired of the monsters and curses, the druids and half-baked cryptic prophecies. He was tired of saving the day with the very gift that would have Uther gladly see him go up in smoke and flames. _Let the remnants of the Old Religion do what they will._

And most of all he was tired of Arthur only taking notice of him when he needed something. Of loving someone who was never going to love him back. He wasn’t even sure if Arthur was capable of loving anyone but himself. _And yet I believe- believed a bloody dragon that he’s the promised prince who would save us all._

“I did not think you would surrender so easily. I thought you had more fight in you.”

Merlin cringed at the disappointment in Gaius’ words. “Is this really how you want to spend our last conservation together? Giving me yet another lecture.”

Gaius took an agonizing pause, before he finally said, “Merlin, my boy, if you think I only like sound of myself talking…” Merlin raised a rather justified eyebrow at that particular statement. “Well there really is nothing left for me to say.”

Merlin moved to leave, to resume his moping, but Gaius shifted to stand in his way.

“I can’t let you go. Uther has already issued summons.”

Merlin should have realized that’s how Gaius knew of his impending punishment. The day had not even passed, and it was time to collect. _Someone’s impatient._ Ruefully he noted. _Like father like son._

He supposed he could just push past the significantly older man and make a run for it. _Same end result without the humiliation of a formal verdict._ But all he could think of was the likely disappointment on Gaius’ face should he look back.

The throne room was empty save for the three of them. The king. The advisor. And the servant. Merlin had expected more of a show frankly. But he supposed Uther did not want to disclose his reason for banishment. _Who would trust him to continue ruling Camelot if he cannot even govern his own household._

Gaius walked the long path up to stand at Uther’s side, acting like his shadow as he always did, so Merlin faced the pair of them alone. _A pretty accurate summation of how I’m feeling right now._

The pained expression on Gaius’ face was the only indication that he didn’t approve of what was about to happen. _That’s the face he wore throughout the Great Purge after he recanted._

“I’ve just been informed that you failed in your assigned task.” Merlin was idly curious who actually told Uther. Or if the king had entrusted someone to stalk either Merlin or Arthur to ascertain whether Merlin actually followed through. _It would be a thousand times more hilarious if he did it personally._

“In light of your years of service at court and relation to my oldest and wisest counselor I have decided your fate.” _And????_

Merlin was waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under him, not trusting the momentary illusion of a reprieve. With that sadistic streak, Uther would enjoy twisting the knife as he stuck it in.

“Banishment. For life.” _You know that won’t be so long given my distinct lack of resources and prospects._

“Should anyone within my kingdom offer you succor or relief, they will share in your punishment.” _Ah yes there goes my back up plan using my long list of friends including a temperamental imprisoned dragon, a serving girl, and royal advisor trapped under your thumb._

“I will brand you with the mark of traitors across your forehead so none will be ignorant of it.” That got Merlin self-consciously touching his forehead, which he rather liked unbranded. _I suppose I could always undo it with magic… if I can remember the right spell._

He now cursed that he never really applied himself to the fullest when it came to magic. Always trusting that his natural talent and Gaius would fill in any gaps. _Too bad there isn’t a spell for hindsight… unless I managed to miss that one too._

“After you are branded, you must leave and never return.”

_You don’t have to ask me twice._

Merlin hadn’t the faintest idea of where to go. He had only known the castle and its grounds since childhood. The village he was from was a faint memory- _I think it’s called Ealdor but that’s just a name on a map now_. And besides under Uther’s writ, it was off limits regardless. _Maybe should have given this some thought before right this moment. Rather than mope around for hours on end._

“Not so fast!” A brash voice, followed on its heels by a brash young man, barreled into the proceedings.

_Arthur!?_


	4. The Hanged Man

“Last I checked father, Merlin was mine.” Arthur looked every inch a knight out of the stories. Well with those annoyingly good looks and that _(gulp)_ physique, he always looked the part. But he seemed to embody it in a way Merlin had forgotten he could, especially given Merlin’s generally terrible, horrible, no good very bad day.

In fact, Merlin’s first instinct was to open his mouth to object, before realizing Arthur was actually trying to help him. _Still not a slave. For the record. But if I actually get to stay, I’ll just keep quiet. For now. I’ll have a lifetime to chew him out over it._

“Why didn’t you tell me at once that you intended to banish him?”

“Because it’s none of your concern.” Uther lounged on the throne, taking on an air of indifferent boredom, although the whites of his knuckles told a different story. “And a crime of his magnitude cannot go unpunished just because he’s one of your favorites.”

Uther lingered on that last word, lending it a sinister air. He once again seemed to imply something that Merlin, for all that he desperately searched for it, could not see. And of the pair of them, Merlin was the one who decidedly spent more time with the prince. _There’s a reason for the daddy issues._

“If you are to be king one day you must know that’s how kingdoms crumble.” _Yes because in a world where I’ve fought off rogue knights, killer beasts, scheming druids and two-faced fae… I’m the biggest threat to Camelot._ Merlin supposed once magic was factored in, it was certainly possible. But for obvious reasons Uther didn’t know about any of that. 

“Without law and order.”

With Uther’s attention solely focused on Arthur, Merlin had the freedom to roll his eyes. _Gaius did survive the Purge after all._ Not that Merlin didn’t greatly appreciate that his uncle was very much still alive and kicking. The hypocrisy just had to be noted. _Not that Uther has ever allowed the mere niceties of logical consistency to intrude on his single mindedness._

“And what is his crime?” _Checkmate._

Merlin was trying to figure out if Arthur was playing dumb, given that someone ( _Gwen? Surely… who else could it be?_ ) had evidently informed of Merlin’s own impending exile. Because if not, well Uther’s answer, honest or not, could be just the thing to set Arthur truly off. _And I’ve got a front row seat to the show._

Uther shifted in his seat, before finally offering up, “Dereliction of duty.”

“I’ve had no complaints in that department.” _Well that’s news to me fucker._

Merlin didn’t even have to pull out the laundry list of times he had offended or aggravated or otherwise ‘inconvenienced’ Arthur over the years. _Technically speaking I’m supposed to be shoveling horseshit right now._ And if Arthur dared make him actually do that once this ordeal was done, Merlin would be the first out the door.

“Well given recent events, your good judgment is very much in doubt.”

Merlin was firmly of the opinion that everyone within the throne room had questionable judgment at best, himself no exception, but that was neither here nor there. _Honestly the only people with sound heads on their shoulders in the entire castle are probably Gwen and Morgana._

“Regardless you’re going to release Merlin this very instant.”

“And precisely why would I do that?”

Without missing a beat, Arthur declared, “Because I will go into exile with him.”

Gaius quite audibly gasped which echoed through the throne room as both Uther and himself were stunned into silence.

Merlin had to do a doubletake to confirm that Arthur had indeed spoken those words aloud. The rashness of them was certainly in character. But to do that for his sake? _Or am I just the latest pawn in the war against Uther._

 _I can’t even escape him if I leave Camelot._ Merlin had not realized that (frankly questionably) good servants were so hard to come by. He had always known that he was indispensable but he questioned whether Arthur had finally come to that realization.

Uther motioned to object, managing only enraged sputtering when Arthur preempted him, “And don’t think for a moment you can force my hand with all those old tired threats.”

“Unless you think you have it in you to start over from scratch. I hear boy kings are quite popular with their hungry neighbors.”

_You’d think that Uther in all his control freakiness would have thought about the old adage about the heir and the spare._

For the second time that day father and son stared each other down. Seated and sagging, Uther looked terribly small and frail. Arthur shone like dawn, announcing himself as the near and clear future.

Uther blinked first. “Fine I’ll return to you your manservant unharmed.”

Merlin spotted a subtle thumbs up from Gaius from behind Uther as if he had at all contributed to this turn of events. _I suppose he could have told Arthur about it and arranged for him to intervene but still for an ostensible advisor he’s sure been silent._

“And you may marry that girl.”

Merlin hadn’t expected that concession. He supposed it was a fait accompli given that Uther was backtracking on the one way he had decided to strike back over the issue. But still Merlin had anticipated that battle to be raging on in the background over the course of months. _While I sat on the sidelines utterly useless and miserable._

Arthur’s reaction was decidedly muted given this should be his crowning achievement. His father routed so successfully that the king consented his precious prince to marry a common girl. But Merlin supposed Arthur got all the thrill in the chase of rebellion rather than what comes after.

“But…” _Here it comes._ Uther would have to snatch some face-saving concession out of this disaster lest his authority be degraded forever. _It would be a blessing if he just abdicated this very instant._ Arthur was old enough to rule in his own right and with Gaius around, things couldn’t get too out of hand. Merlin was still waiting on that golden age that supposedly beckoned.

“You must wait at least year to consummate this union.” _Don’t mind me gagging over here._ “Hopefully in that time you will finally see some semblance of sense. And if not, well I’ll not stand in your way.” The last part was said through gritted teeth.

“But know this, should you tire of her quaint charms, I’ll be selecting her replacement, whether that will be with or without your input will be up to you.”

“Now begone.” Uther pinched the bridge of his nose in obvious distress.

Arthur clamped one hand on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin’s heart leapt to his throat as his mouth ran dry. _It doesn’t mean anything idiot._

Arthur steered him out of the throne room. Merlin idly wondered whether this gesture was so he couldn’t escape his punishment this go around. _Seems a shame to escape the frying pan just to land in the fire._ Not that exile and shoveling literal shit were remotely in the same league as punishments go but still distinctly unpleasant.

As they departed Merlin wondered whether Uther would just sulk on his throne into the night. It seemed Gaius would have the unenviable task of nursing that bruised ego.

Morgana and Gaius usually tag teamed managing Uther’s mood in a pretty similar way to how to Merlin tried (and failed) to manage Arthur’s. But the lady was nowhere to be seen, probably sulking herself after being dismissed by Uther earlier that day.

Arthur guided Merlin, not speaking a word and offering no hints as to where they were going. Merlin didn’t want to break the silence. Arthur was in the driver seat _Both of us quiet. Odd._

Merlin expected some insults lobbed his way or some cutting remarks about how inconvenient the whole stillborn exile affair was or some rage venting about Uther at the very least. Arthur was always so direct that it was rare Merlin didn’t know precisely what he was thinking.

After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at Arthur’s chambers, so shoveling shit was off the table. _For now._

Once assured of a modicum of privacy as Arthur shut the door behind them, Merlin said, “You rode to my rescue.”

Despite his confusion at Arthur’s behavior, he was still riding the high of his stay of execution. _Who knew I’d be happy to still be this dunce’s manservant._

Arthur nodded with great exaggeration, as if Merlin had just stated the obvious. _Which in slight fairness to him I suppose I just have._

The prince’s smug face settled into a smirk. “You’re not very observant are you.”

Merlin had no reason to be embarrassed but his cheeks flushed red regardless. _Traitors._ Although that was nothing new, his body always betrayed him when it came to Arthur whether that meant scarlet cheeks and ears or other awkward movements of blood.

“I guess what I was trying to say is I understand what just happened. But not the why.” It wasn’t often that Arthur surprised him. Merlin had known him for so long now and quite intimately too. _In all ways but one._

“Does it need to be said?”

Merlin stared into that oh-so familiar face straight on, with an intensity he usually reserved for when he thought Arthur wouldn’t notice. Those blue eyes stared back at him, unblinking and as unreadable as druidic runes. _Funny because being able to read both of those is more or less my job._

He broke contact first, deflecting his gaze to the floor, which rather helpfully could not look back into his soul. He was terrified to lower his guard for even an instant. He already was in a vulnerable place after the trauma of this unending day. How could he trust Arthur to be sincere?

“I can’t read minds.” _Yet. Mental note. Look up a mind-reading spell._ Frankly he should have done that ages ago. _Could have saved me a lot of grief over the years. Questionable ethics be damned._

“Because…” There was pause, the slightest hint of hesitation. It was Arthur’s turn to show nerves. That was wrong. Arthur had the kind of supreme confidence that precluded nerves. _Whether that is a sign of competence or idiocy is another matter._

Merlin glanced back up to see the prince’s face creased with great concentration and something else he couldn’t quite place. If Merlin had to name it, it would be want… but what could the prince that had everything possibly still even need?

He couldn’t stand the building tension, even if it was only just in his head. Arthur just scrambled all his instincts and desires to the point he never knew when to trust his gut because he couldn’t be sure it wasn’t his heart speaking.

Folding his arms across his chest, as if that could shelter his heart, Merlin prompted, “Well?”

_Put me out of my misery._

Arthur’s face flushed crimson, “Because I love you, you completely and utterly useless idiot.”

Merlin was in shock. That was the beginning and quite possibly would be the end of his reaction. An endless loop of _What? What? What?_ running through his head.

It was all he could to do to sputter out an outraged, “Since when?!”

It was everything he had hoped and wished for (and dreamed of…) which only made him more hesitant to accept it as reality. It had to be some faerie changeling playing a nasty trick in revenge for his thousand slights against them. Or some cursed object or half-forgotten spell working its influence on Arthur to doom Camelot by having the prince fall for the serving boy. Or an actual dream… the past twenty-four hours had certainly had the air of a nightmare

“I’ve always been…” Arthur gulped, which only brought the tout veins in his neck to Merlin’s attention. “Interested.”

Merlin’s cheeks flushed scarlet and he would be entirely unsurprised if they started glowing, just as they did that night. _So you’re telling me all those times I convinced myself I was reading too much into things and confusing my wants with yours that you’ve been actually, legitimately… interested!?!_

“And I could tell you were too.” _I could kill you if I didn’t want to kiss you._ Merlin suspected a bit of both was about to go down. He certainly couldn’t see a way he’d survive either way. As it stood, his great and terrible secret had been an open one.

“I’m not blind. And for someone quick to protest otherwise, you’re quite good at feeding an ego.”

_I can never give this man so much as a grudging compliment again. He’ll become a monster… you know if he wasn’t already one._

Merlin’s hand shot to his breast, checking if his heart did in fact stop or it just felt that way. He also ought to focus on his breathing because he wasn’t sure if that was happening either.

“Well I do. Love you too.” Merlin had marked up a thousand pages with some variations of those words, encoded of course and a terrible waste of paper all because his feelings had needed the outlet. But no longer.

“Prat.” _Me be emotionally vulnerable without a hint of irony or sarcasm undercutting it. I’d rather Uther have banished me._

Still something nagged at Merlin, despite how grateful he was “But why confess now?”

Why had they wasted all those years in each other’s company when they could have been doing so much more? _Wasted is the wrong word, I wouldn’t trade a second of the time we spent together. But still I tortured myself. And that tempers the joy and relief both._

“It took the threat of not having you around anymore to realize that my feelings for you were more intense than I had previously thought.”

“So what now?”

Arthur tilted his head to one side. “How do you mean?” _Good to know he can still be dense as castle walls._

Merlin was still mildly disconcerted at the concept of an Arthur who noticed things. That clearly was his own department. Although not seeing Arthur’s feelings despite a literal kiss did not suggest he did a particularly good job at it. _It’s a miracle Camelot’s still standing._

“About us. Where do we go from here?” A whole world of possibilities still beckoned. All things he had fantasized about but hadn’t dared to believe would ever come true. He needn’t treasure that night as a fluke one-off to be forever preserved in the amber. He’d bury it in the memories of a thousand nights, each more magical than the last.

“There can be no us.” Merlin’s ears ringed from the sound of all his stillborn fantasies crashing back down to earth. “There never will be an us. I still have to marry Gwen in a year’s time.”

“But-” Arthur shook his head warily, bringing Merlin to a stop, all the unspoken words piling up in his throat, nearly choking him.

“I know my duty Merlin. Camelot needs an heir when my time in the sun comes. I might have tried sabotaging the process by selecting so unsuitable a candidate. But that doesn’t change the fact I still need to sire children of my own someday.”

Merlin couldn’t hide the disappointment he felt. Nor did he especially feel like it. He was done with the hidden feelings and secrets and lies _._ Living in his head when real life happened everywhere else.

“Merlin you must know that should word get out… well my father would send you away in a heartbeat or worse. Regardless of any pleading or threats on my part.”

Merlin realized that Arthur had cast his own spell in that moment on Uther. And there would be no guarantee that the effects would last long enough. It was a battle of wills and resolve and in that respect, Arthur had not fallen far from the tree.

Merlin could not stand being so close to everything he ever wanted and being denied. _I thought myself heaven sent but looks like I’m still hell bent. Ignorance would have been kinder._

A flash of inspiration kept the ember alive. “We could keep it hidden. Just among the three of us. You, me, and Gwen.”

Merlin implicitly thought they could trust Gwen with this secret. They would have to for this mad plan to have any chance of success. But it would be a big sacrifice to ask of her. _But any bigger than already being consigned to a loveless marriage regardless?_

Arthur frowned. “But Merlin you can’t lie.”

Merlin had to scoff. “I so can.”

“Name one instance when you have in fact successfully hidden something from me.”

Merlin swallowed the laughter bubbling inside him. Arthur may have noticed a crush but not all the magic swirling around in his orbit constantly.

 _Oh this just got dangerous._ He couldn’t dare be honest about his abilities. If Arthur reacted poorly, like he always thought he would, well that would spell a final definite end to these exciting possibilities.

“Consider it. Please.”

It wasn’t a good sign that Arthur wasn’t on board instantly. Arthur acted decisively and on instinct, if he wanted to do it, he would have instantly agreed, consequences be damned. As it stood, it felt like he was just humoring Merlin to soften the blow of the eventual denial.

Arthur leaned in, lips opening at the close.

Acting on pure instinct, Merlin met him in the middle.

Their mouths collided in a kiss, more desperate and hungry for all the years that had passed since that first one. And far too soon Arthur broke contact. Merlin whined a little in protest.

“I will,” Arthur breathed into his ear, before drawing back. Merlin could see a mask slip back into place. Prince Arthur, heir to Camelot and its environs returned. “This conversation isn’t over, not by a long shot. But duty calls.”

_I’ve always heard that love was the death of duty. I pray that saying is right._

Merlin sat there alone for a while, surrounded by Arthur’s things, each item a reminder of what he could never seem to have.

His head was close to bursting as he gamed out a thousand million different scenarios. He needed another flesh and blood human to bounce off this conundrum. For this kind of thing he’d normally go to Gwen but he couldn’t face her yet. Not after how horridly he had treated her earlier. And it felt wrong to burden her with Arthur problems given she had her own fair share of them.

With Gwen out of the question, there really was only one option. _If he can help me solve magic problems, surely boy problems shouldn’t be too much of stress._

Merlin knocked. He was fairly sure Gaius was in, but there was always the possibility that he was still nursing Uther’s tantrum after Arthur outmaneuvered him for the second time in one day. _Being incredibly single-minded and stubborn does pay off on occasion. Not that I’d know anything about that._

Gaius’ familiar gravelly voiced responded, “I’m in.”

Merlin took in a deep breath before plunging into the room, shutting the door behind him lest a stray passerby happen to catch something they shouldn’t.

“Oh Merlin.” Gaius started up from the desk he was working at, surprised at the late call. “What can I do for you my boy?” 

“Gaius, and I’m warning you now if you take this as an opportunity to be smug…”

“Now Merlin, when have I ever…”

That sentence could not be finished in good faith and Gaius had the modicum of self-awareness to realize that with a gentle nudge from Merlin’s raised eyebrow.

“But I do need your advice about something.”

Gaius carefully placed down the instruments in his hand on the desk, giving Merlin his full attention. “Go on.”

“I… me and… well you see…” Each false start begot another until he was just spewing inarticulate nonsense sounds between awkward ever lengthening pauses. _Maybe I should have let Uther put me out of my misery._

_Why is this so difficult?_

_Because underneath your bluster, you deeply care about what Gaius thinks of you._

_Oh shut up._  
  
Merlin sighed, aloud. Continuing to argue with himself in the safety of his mind would not resolve the situation at hand, particularly given this is why he visited Gaius in the first place.

“Arthur…” he trailed off, finding himself unable to say it outside the safety of his mind. He had thought he had trapped himself into confession by bringing it up to Gaius who certainly wouldn’t let the matter drop. When it came to acquiring knowledge, Gaius was like a dog gnawing a bone, once he got the taste of it, he wouldn’t let go. But it seemed Merlin was tongued-tied. _Arthur would probably pay good gold to see this._

“Merlin I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.” _I’m trying I swear._

“Arthur and I are involved,” he blurted out. “Romantically?”

His voice involuntarily pitched high at the end, barely avoiding a crack, making it sound more like a question than a clarification. It was like a second puberty. Which he supposed his first serious prospect at… something was at hand.

_Lord I don’t know what to call it. Not that labels are the most important thing right now. But they’re not not important. And I need something else to overthink now that I now he’s actually interested in me._

“Surely you can’t be serious.” _Welp that’s precisely what I’ve been worried about. Weird how validated I feel by this happening._ It was a familiar feeling given how often he anticipated Arthur’s adventures going sideways, only to be proven correct each and every time.

“Well we sort of confessed our feelings for each other. And we could get together. But Uther’s mucked it all up. You saw how he’s insisting Arthur marry Gwen now.”

“You and Arthur? Together?” The lines on Gaius’ face crinkled before settling into a frown. Merlin could see the mental gymnastics going on Gaius’ mind as he tried to comprehend this rather unexpected course of events. Merlin was entirely sure he had quite processed it himself yet.

“Well that bit is a more recent development… like today years old.” _God this day has just been impossibly long._

“Merlin, I’m warning you.” Merlin was so inured to those words by now that they just washed over him like a gentle spray of water. 

“This is a hill you will in fact quite literally die on if you don’t proceed with great caution.” _Gaius I love you but overenunciating your words will not in fact make it any more likely that I will listen and follow what you say._

“And that’s somehow new?” Merlin let loose a mad laugh that was half a bark. “I risk fiery death every time my eyes so much glow.” _I really ought to unpack sometime how comfortable I’ve become with mortal peril… probably too much time spent with Arthur._ It was the source of most of his problems.

“But that’s a calculated risk in service of a greater goal. This…” Gaius trailed off, leaving the accusation to hover them in implication. Merlin could piece together the words too cruel to be said.

_But am I not worthy of love?_

Merlin always thought that he’d never have a love story. That he would be doomed to live out his days in some tragicomedy, forever attached at the hip to the object of his attraction without opportunity to act on his feelings. But now there was a chance, however slim and remote that he could persevere and make it a reality. He couldn’t just close his eyes and pretend it wasn’t there. 

“Just think of all those times I’ve saved Uther despite the fact that all he does is persecute and hate people like me.” _What I did, I did for Arthur or so I keep telling myself…_ “I’m done being the bigger person, always sacrificing for the common good when all too often that just means what’s easy and comfortable for Uther.”

“Can’t I just be selfish this once?” He pleaded, unsure if he was talking more to Gaius or himself at this point.

His question went unanswered. _Because why would there ever be any easy answers._ Merlin suspected Gaius was trying to be kind by sparing him the truth of the matter. But he couldn’t be objective, not about this.

Well when he looked within himself, he found that there was one answer. He needed to follow his heart. He knew he loved Arthur. And now he knew that Arthur loved him. That would have to be enough.


	5. The Lovers

Surely it would not be a spoiler to say that Arthur came around to the idea.

Merlin discovered this surprise about-face when Arthur chose to mash his into Merlin’s first thing the next morning without so much as a how do you do. _Well hello to you too._

Well one thing led to another, and before Merlin had found the space to ask questions or think or even breathe, he found himself falling backward onto Arthur’s bed. If someone happened to walk into Arthur’s chambers in this moment there would be some awkward explaining to do. 

For this remarkable turn of events, Merlin would have loved to credit his own personal charms and striking good looks. _Both of which I obviously have in spades._ But he would be lying if he said that spiting Uther wasn’t part of the thrill for the both of them. And Merlin was more than happy to abet Arthur in this particular mission.

Uther did his level best not to dignify their rebellion with a response but Merlin could see the fire ignited within through the screen of narrow eyes, the gritted teeth that grimaced, and the shoulders tensed like a caged animal. But his silence was all that was required and he held his tongue out of shame. _And plausible deniability._ It was contemptible but it was enough.

However, neither Merlin nor Arthur were quite this inhibited (anymore), and they had ages of time wasted to catch up on. _It’s a minor miracle we spend any amount of the day clothed, particularly because I’m in charge of the dressing._ It was now the one time he was unambiguously satisfied with his job.

Meanwhile Arthur, locked into his engagement with Gwen lest he back down to Uther now, did all he could to ensure her a satisfaction he could not personally supply. It was an inadequate compensation for a life unwillingly diverted from its original path but both Arthur and Merlin hoped it wouldn’t be in vain. _I can’t allow my newfound happiness to come at my friend’s expense._

Arthur assigned Lancelot to be his betrothed’s personal guard. As her betrothed and Prince of Camelot, it was well within his prerogative to ensure her safety by any means he saw fit. And if she so happened to have feelings for said guard and ample opportunities to act on them given that they were in such close proximity… well that was just good fortune smiling upon a pair of star-crossed lovers.

It wasn’t in complete privacy of course. Arthur spent the entirety of his free time in Gwen’s company. To create the space for him and Merlin to see each other, he had to fully commit to appear doting on Gwen. In public it was a convincing enough performance that at times Merlin got the slightest twinges of jealousy… at least until they were safely ensconced behind closed doors again.

Morgana dropped in frequently, evidently missing Gwen’s constant companionship. Arthur had decided it wouldn’t be appropriate for a future of queen of Camelot to remain a lady in waiting and had taken upon himself to liberate her while they awaited their wedding day. For her part, Gwen didn’t seem to mind trading in scrubs for silks.

And well, Morgana had always been a quick study and picked up on the odd dynamic of the foursome even as they did their level best to play act the roles expected of them in her presence. _I’ve always been a shit servant… what’s their excuses?_

Thankfully she opted to join in rather than rat out the full details of their bizarre arrangement to Uther who still had the power to make life difficult for them if he so chose. _And if she really wants to be the fifth wheel, she’s welcome to it._

And so the five of them had formed a little clique. _Look at me doubling my number of friends… to all of four._ Gwen, Gaius and now Lancelot and Morgana. When all was said and done Arthur didn’t really count as a friend. He was so much more. _And we kind of skipped over the friendships stage of relationships… unless he calls ordering me around while insulting me friendship… which would not surprise me._

It was the most time he had ever spent in Morgana’s presence without the looming threat of Uther in the background setting everyone, especially himself, on edge. To Merlin she had just always been the haughty apple of Uther’s eye. And he doubted he occupied any of her headspace. _And frankly until quite recently vice versa._

She was bright and headstrong, qualities that would be praised in a man but held against her despite (or perhaps even more so because) of her rank. And as much as her obvious beauty was a blessing (even he of all people took notice of and could admire it), he suspected it was also a curse. She fit so perfectly into the image of lady that it could easily become a prison trapping her in the all the conventions of her sex. 

He also suspected she had some latent magical abilities. It was little things like the odd luminousness of her eyes that seemed to threaten to glow in a way he was all too familiar with. Or the subtle way she could anticipate effect before cause in a way that precluded merely being clever or observant. It was like some kind of sixth sense.

And then there were the dreams. Nightmares were not inherently magical of course. And sometimes a dream was just a dream. But the terror they inspired and the remedies she took gestured at something darker and more mysterious at work.

She did not speak of them often but the under circles of her eyes spoke for her, well them and the sleeping draught she requested from Gaius. It was probably a breach of privacy but Merlin had investigated the ingredients and although he did not know much about medicine, recognized it was no ordinary potion.

Merlin prayed he was wrong, not out of some misguided jealousy or to protect his status as allegedly the greatest magic user of their age- _at least according to imprisoned dragons… I really need better sources_ \- but because he shuddered to think what Uther would do should he ever discover it. Knowing Uther, he would be all the crueler for it being someone so close to him. And Merlin wouldn’t wish all the secrecy and lies on anyone.

On this rare occasion, they had ended up alone together without the buffer of either Arthur, who was like a brother to her, or Gwen, who knew her best of all of them. The prince had been summoned by Uther for a private word while Gwen was visiting her father with Lancelot acting as her shadow.

It was bizarre making himself at home in Gwen’s suite without her presence but he didn’t know where else in the castle to go. Besides it felt rude to leave Morgana alone.

She was reclined on a plushy lounge chair, playing with an apple in her hands. Idly he wondered whether she was actually hungry or wanting for something to do. “Merlin don’t you ever tire of playing at being a mere servant?” _Every moment of my damn life._

He had never asked for this position, although perversely it had afforded him the opportunity to get closer to Arthur. _As was his plan from the start._ He had never sat down and done the math of whether the scales balanced in favor or not.

Rather than answer the question, he countered, “Don’t you ever tire at playing the perfect ward?”

She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I suppose we’re all dealt our lot in life.”

“Just so.” 

There was something sly in her expression that he instantly did not trust. “And we all have our secrets.”

“Well you already know mine.” _Well the one that we failed to hide._

“Now we both know that isn’t true.” Her tone was warm but there was an edge to it, and he had no intention of being cut. _When did this become an interrogation?_ He was starting to suspect that she had been waiting for an opportunity to speak to him without Arthur’s presence for quite some time.

He opted to play dumb as most people were fooled by the act. They always expected so little of servants and he was happy to play into their prejudices. “I don’t think I catch your meaning.”

“There is something more to you I think. More than just what you mean to Arthur. He sees something special in you but I don’t think he could name it if I pressed him.”

Merlin neither confirmed nor denied the accusation, which he supposed could be construed as an admission by alternative means, but he was taken aback by Morgana’s directness.

“I intend to find it out. I may not be related to the Pendragons by blood but they are my family and you are something else entirely.”

He narrowed his eyes, “Is this some kind of test?”

“I like you well enough Merlin, and I know you could never intentionally betray Arthur.” _What a full-throated declaration of confidence._ “I’m just looking out for his interest while he is blinded by desire.”

He noticed she did not call it love and bristled at the reduction of their relationship to something as basic and common as lust and sex. However the more pressing issue was that the conversation was on dangerous terrain, he needed to redirect it.

“And what of your secrets? Should Arthur not be wary of them?”

Her face darkened, emphasizing the under shadows of her eyes. He knew he aimed for a sore spot, but it was the best arrow in his quiver.

“I did not mean to cause offence.”

Merlin swallowed a snort.

“It is already forgotten.” _Well more accurately I want you to forget it and move on, I’ll hold onto this a little while longer._

“It’s always the quiet ones, Merlin.”

***

Merlin was not quite sure what to do with himself. It was not often he had a day off and was left completely to his own devices.. Arthur and Morgana had to greet King Rodor of Nemeth, who given how spectacularly Arthur had snubbed his daughter, was expecting something of an apology. _Golden words and golden nuggets should do the trick._ Apparently Uther thought it a slight to have the woman who took Mithian’s rightful place present, so Gwen was locked away in her quarters. She didn’t need to be told twice.

Merlin was also banned lest he cause a diplomatic incident, when it had been at least weeks- _that’s right plural_ \- since that had last happened. _And I feel like Arthur’s more likely to trigger a crisis without me providing some cover or strategically making a fool of myself but that’s neither here nor there._

But this did provide a now rare opportunity for Merlin to see Gwen alone, just the two of them. They just were both so busy with the men in their lives and while their collective friendship had not suffered for it, their individual one could use some tending to.

At the door, standing guard as was his ostensible duty, was Lancelot, kitted out in full armaments, looking every inch the perfect knight. There had been a time when he was young that Merlin had wanted this for himself. A dream deferred and then unrealized. _Maybe all I ever really wanted was Arthur._

“Lancelot.”

“Merlin.” Lancelot inclined his head in acknowledgement. Merlin couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t wearing a helmet. And while he could understand not wanting to cover that pretty face (or more likely unnecessarily limit his vision), not wearing anything on his ehad seemed shortsighted. Lancelot didn’t exactly have Gwaine’s definitely not regulation flowing locks.

“Not spending this time with Gwen?” Merlin didn’t want to cramp their style if Gwen and Lancelot shared his idea about some one-on-one face time. _Although they’d spend it slightly differently._

“I could ask the same thing about your other half.” A sly grin lit up his face. “But we had the night.”

It took Merlin a moment to register his meaning. “Oh.”

He was not necessarily shocked but there was still a moment of surprise. There were consequences to their coupling that Arthur and Merlin didn’t have to consider. But Gwen surely knew that more than he did. 

Lancelot stepped aside, allowing Merlin to enter. He found Gwen still in bed, thankfully in a nightgown. He may have faced off against all assortments of dangers and creatures but there were some things that couldn’t be unseen.

“Did I wake you?”

She shook her head, not bothering to raise it from the pillow.

He crawled into bed with her settling on the far end. They faced each other.

After a moment, she said “I have things I should be working on.”

“You could always get up and get dressed.”

“But Merlin, I don’t want to.”

“Rodor’s visit messing with you?” It made sense. Both he and Gwen had a certain precariousness in their respective relationships with Arthur, an inherent instability. Of different characters to be sure- _I’ll always have the security blanket of knowing he loves me in that infuriating way he does_ \- but being Arthur’s other half in any capacity was no easy task. 

“My brother thinks this is all mad.”

Merlin frowned, “He doesn’t…”

He was sure Elyan could be trusted with the details of their arrangement but the fewer who knew a secret the more likely it was to be kept. _Which is how my magic has remained secret so long. The only ones who know are just me, Gaius, and an ornery imprisoned dragon who doesn’t take social calls._

“Oh no, he doesn’t know the full… arrangement. He just thinks the idea of me marrying Arthur is insane,” Gwen chuckled to herself. “He’s not wrong.”

Merlin chimed in, “Just not for the reasons he thinks.”

“I mean up jumped ladies-in-waiting and blacksmith’s daughters don’t marry princes. Not even in the stories.”

All Merlin heard was that those stories could use a bit more color.

“Think about it, there will be stories about you.” _More likely than me._

“Just what I need, children being told the tale of Guinevere the Gauche.”

“More like Guinevere the Gracious. The Gallant. The Graceful.” He was rapidly running out of good traits that started with the letter g but felt he was getting the point across. She was good natured, intelligent, and brave. Given enough time, she’d ingratiate herself as Good Queen Gwen to everyone she encountered. _Arthur doesn’t know how a good a choice he made for his bride._

She smiled, small and sweet, though it did not quite reach her eyes. A kindly smile to be sure but one touched by a certain wariness or sadness, fragile as a leaf fluttering in the autumnal air.

“Do you ever stop and think about how this can’t go on forever?”

Logically he knew that to be true. Besides if everything was to be frozen in place, unchanging for all eternity, it would become unbearably dull eventually. But in the intoxicating air of the present moment, it was all too easy to forget or push aside the idea of endings.

“Like yes, one day you will be wed to Arthur.” He pretended to never quite remember the precise date as if it weren’t burned into his flesh like the treacherous mark Uther attempted to brand him with. “But nothing else needs to change.”

If anything, once Uther finally kicked the bucket, they would have even greater freedom to do as they wished. Arthur would be king and need not bow to the will of any man living and certainly not a dead one.

“A queen is no ordinary wife. I’ll have duties,” Merlin winced at that word. It had rapidly become his least favorite. “An appearance to maintain. Morgana’s been teaching me…”

Merlin understood what she was getting at. “You don’t want me to live openly… ever.”

“It’s the only way this arrangement can work. A king may have his favorites in the shadows but he needs a queen by his side.” 

“I think this is Arthur’s decision to make.”

“He’s not some dashing prince who will rescue you from a tower. He’s been prepared to be king from the moment of his birth. By Uther of all people. He’s not going to risk it all for a pretty face, even one as pretty as yours.”

_Well he’s already risking quite a bit for this pretty face. What’s a bit more skin in the game. By this point I must have seen every inch of it._

“I guess we’ll just find out.”

The mood sufficiently chilled, they both opted to switch topics not acknowledging their tiff. Steadily things lightened and brightened and Merlin remembered why he adored Gwen. But it was not forgotten, at least by Merlin. It surfaced to the front of his mind that very night in Arthur’s chambers. 

Most nights they shared a bed now. It had happened gradually at first. Just because neither of them wanted to be the first to let go. To break contact in the privacy of this inner sanctum where they didn’t have to be hopelessly self-conscious about the way they occupied the same space.

It was the thing that Merlin looked forward to most now. Nothing was more heartening at the end of a long day than the feel of Arthur’s warmth pressed against him and the tingle as Arthur whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

Merlin had always thought he would resent this, having to share. He didn’t own much of anything in his own right, living in borrowed rooms and in borrowed clothes. Plus his whole life was devoted in service of his ex-crush, current something… more (no metaphor to be found in there). The only thing that was really his was his magic, which he couldn’t even claim to entirely understand and couldn’t use freely under penalty of death.

And he was intimately aware that a power imbalance was baked into their relationship. They would never quite escape the starting dynamic of being the prince and his beloved servant. _Even factoring in my secret magic._

It wasn’t unlike Achilles and Patroclus or Alexander and Hephaestion or Hadrian and Antinous. _All those great men in history and the lesser men who stood by their sides through it all._

Merlin pushed away the dark thought that followed. It did not escape his notice that none of their stories ended happily. Always one or the both of them died under tragic circumstances in the flower of their youth. Hector slaying Patroclus, while Achilles was struck down in the aftermath consumed by careless rage and grief. Fever and sickness stealing first Hephaestion, then Alexander. Antinous drowned.

Poor Hadrian, where Achilles and Alexander were able to follow their dearly departed into whatever lay beyond the veil of life, he had to go on living, the fate of the world resting on his exhausted shoulders.

Merlin was determined to avoid their fates. _Arthur and I will be the first to escape that curse. We will see first old age, and then meet the reaper together, hand in hand._ If his magic could not secure that future, what was the point of all this power?

He hated to push, to look ahead to the end of this little bubble of time when duty would get between them. Every time he looked at Gwen, he couldn’t help but remember that one day she’d be expected to bear Arthur’s children.

And the mechanics of how that would happen horrified him. If they horrified Arthur to the same degree, he kept mum about it. Merlin wasn’t sure if Arthur’s silence was meant to protect him or just lent itself for more opportunities for Merlin to torture himself in the privacy of his own thoughts. _I’ve had years of practice._

Once he had worked up the courage, he asked, “Do you want children?”

It was as direct as he could stand to be without vulgarly saying aloud how it would be accomplished. He knew by now he could speak freely around Arthur when they were alone.

Arthur frowned, worry lines marking his previously relaxed face. “It’s not about wanting, now is it. I have a legacy to protect, I need an heir. And it’s not like I have siblings or cousins in spades.”

It was a reminder that Arthur had as lonely a childhood as Merlin with only their rank separating them. _Although there’s a world of difference between the loneliness of being an outcast and the loneliness of being surrounded only by sycophants._

Still Merlin thought it was a lot of responsibility resting on the shoulders of someone so young, no matter how capable. They were men now true, but at heart Arthur was still the laughing boy who had never wanted for anything. _Except me… until now._

Merlin shifted onto his side, “But that’s not answering the question. I’m not asking about your duty. We both know your duty.” He tried to modulate the bitterness that crept into his voice but failed miserably. _He knows exactly how I feel but duty cares not._

It slept in the same bed as them, an invisible screen that always threatened to separate them. Merlin found it suffocating.

“Don’t you want a legacy Merlin? To leave a mark on the world that doesn’t instantly get washed away in the tide the moment you croak.”

Merlin had to crack a faint smile. Only a prince would presume that everyone had the luxury of wondering about such an abstract concept as a legacy. _Who can think of the days after one is gone when tomorrow is not even secure?_

But he did ponder the question a moment, and came to the conclusion that there were a thousand ways to change the world that didn’t involve children. Frankly he always thought Arthur would be it. Merlin had the ear of the man meant to be responsible for the next golden age. The fate of entire kingdoms would be decided by their own hands. Raising a family seemed rather banal and domestic next to all that. _Besides Arthur, you’re all the family I’ll ever need._

“What is there to pass on? There’s nothing special about me.” In public he would always be the anonymous servant without title or money or a storied name. When the story of Camelot got written, he would be a footnote at best. He could only ever be the moon reflecting the refracted glory of Arthur’s golden sun. _And only that on a cloudless night._

“Now we both know that’s not true.” Arthur’s palm rested on Merlin’s cheek with his fingers pressed gently against the nape of Merlin’s neck. A stab of guilt emanated from Arthur’s touch, a countercurrent to the warmth and comfort. _If you only knew the half of it._

Merlin still had one last secret borne out of- _ugh_ \- duty. Arthur still didn’t know of his magic. And once settled into their relationship, Merlin realized he could never divulge it. He couldn’t risk the potential for a bad reaction. He needed his powers if he was to be of any use to anyone, Arthur especially. What trust could there be in destiny or fate? The future belongs to no one until seized in the onrushing present.

And, of course, the possibility of a more personal rejection also existed. Screw Albion, Merlin didn’t want to lose Arthur, not when his dream was finally seeing fruition. He could not bear to see the ghost of the hatred that marred Uther’s face so regularly cross Arthur’s face, if only for a moment. It would shatter his heart into more fragments than stars in the sky.

Merlin let it go. For his own sake he would have to let it be. And if he could not, well he would gladly sacrifice his own peace of mind for Arthur’s sake.

Arthur pulled back his hand but pressed in his body closer, warmth radiating from him. Merlin curled into him, head resting against his chest. Arthur didn’t protest, although Merlin thought he heard some remark about him having a big head.

He felt Arthur’s heart and breathing slow as the latter drifted to sleep.

Merlin himself lay awake, so exhausted that the idea of opening his eyes was itself tiring, but otherwise his mind was a cup overflowing with thoughts. The words of Gwen and Morgana and even Arthur reverberated, echoing with a mockery not found in reality. Was he just a monument to wasted potential? A hanger-on with no greater purpose? All this time did he mistake Arthur’s great destiny as somehow his own?

He thought he had escaped this problem when Arthur had chosen him. But that had turned out to be its own beginning, not the ending goal post he had imagined. _Everything ends and nothing ends._ Life was just all present all the time, the actual past and imagined futures receding in equal measure.

These anxieties were soothed by the light of day and good company and cheer but each night they returned the moment Arthur drifted off to sleep, leaving Merlin alone with himself. They cast a shadow on the little paradise they had carved out for themselves.

Time skipped along much too quickly as it is wont to do in its contrarian willful spirit. Minutes bled into hours into days into weeks into seasons. Sure, there was always a crisis of the day that got Uther foaming at the mouth and sent Gaius skittering about. Another monster of the week to be outwitted and outmatched. _Trolls, griffins, undead knights oh my!_

But it all blurred into just a backdrop for the golden time he spent with Arthur. The knowing looks exchanged when Uther monologued at great length about his latest bugbear or Gaius scolded them for their recklessness. The banter and wit hanging in the air as they hurled digs and mockery at each other. Then the precious moments between the sheets, the only time Merlin thought of Arthur as a tender, even delicate person, pretty as stained glass. 

But finally as predicted by Gwen, these golden hours came to a close. The day he had been dreading came. Bells rang out in celebration for the prince was to marry his future queen before half the realm. Merlin would be in attendance at Arthur’s insistence, although he suspected Uther would arrange things so his presence was unnoticeable. All the ladies would be crying for what they were denied. And he would be among them. He could never have his own version of this day. _I’ll only ever have wedding nights, never the day._


	6. The Devil

The ceremony was held in the throne room. Perhaps Uther wanted a comfortable seat to watch as it unfolded. As promised, Merlin was present on the margins, towards the back of the chamber. He wasn’t even offered a seat. _Not that I would want one in the front row._

For reasons Merlin did not know or care to understand, Gaius had been selected to officiate the wedding. He had tried to dress in his most impressive robes for the occasion. The effect was less ceremonial than he thought Gaius intended. He fit far more comfortably with a role in shadows than the spotlight.

That being said Merlin eyes never left Arthur the entire time. He was truly shining this day, the circuit of gold about his head looking very much like a halo, leaving him without rival in the room. _Or the world._

Arthur had shed his usual chainmail for a red doublet emblazoned with an old dragon design and tan trousers. With the matching cloak, he looked every inch a dandy which Merlin took a small amount of satisfaction in. _He wants nothing else but to be armored up. But that's not exactly wedding material._

Gwen wore a deep burgundy dress with dull golden flowers patterned about the chest and flowing wide cut arms. She looked infuriatingly beautiful, the perfect blushing bride to be. Her brother Elyan had presented her to court and accompanied her to the altar, positively beaming at the high honor about to be afforded her.

Merlin did his best to tune out the ceremony. To properly hear the vows would be death by a thousand cuts, each word a dagger to his wounded heart. However even he could not resist as Gaius’ droning reached the climactic moment.

“By the power vested in me by the King, I declare you to be husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Merlin forced his arms to be at his side as his nails dug into his palms. _It’s only a kiss._ _It means nothing. The ceremony demands it._

He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t happening. Denying reality never ended well. Arthur leaned in as Gwen arched her head upward, both pairs of lips ready to meet in the middle.

Before this ceremonial capstone could be completed, the great doors burst open with such force that a gust of wind blew through the hall. Merlin forced down a smile when he saw that it had knocked Uther’s crown askew.

Those in the crowd that had not been literally blown away, backed off, leaving the space immediately around the entrance empty. The dazed guards lowered their spearpoints and drew their swords but had no greater inkling on who the intruder could be than anyone else present.

Into the gap stepped a mystery knight dressed in a green as bright as summer grass, not just cloth but also the helmet, armor plates, and chain mail. The color was hypnotic to look at, such was the vibrancy and unreality. It was as if a walking bush had come down to Camelot. He was no goliath in height or build, but the strangeness of his appearance was disquieting all the same. The effect could only be achieved by magic of some kind and, if Merlin had to guess, his companion was the source of it.

She was a woman robed in lilac, hood drawn so that only the lower half of her face was visible and only just. Most eyes were drawn to the showier green knight, but Merlin’s gaze was drawn to her. He could sense the power radiating from her in waves. The feeling left him nauseous and weak-kneed.

“What is the meaning of this?” Uther asked from his throne, outraged at the interruption.

The lilac woman and her mystery knight companion remained silent. They neither moved further forward into the breach they had created not retreated. _Is this some kind of mass hallucination? Like that time that hag witch put magic mushrooms in the Camelot water supply._

“Why have you interrupted us?” Arthur prompted, his eyes narrowing. Already Merlin could see him subtlety signaling with his hands to some guardsmen for a blade should he need to defend himself or leap into action.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the hooded woman answered, “My companion here comes to help me claim on my behalf what is rightfully mine should it not be freely given.”

There was something hypnotic in her smooth tones. Merlin was instantly put-on edge, worried she intended to put some kind of spell on those gathered. Clearly she was some great sorceress as she had burst into the inner sanctum of Camelot with all the ease of a squirrel cracking open a nut. _Or alternatively her strange companion may be some incredible knight._

“The only thing you will be freely given is a boot to the exit.” Uther waved a lazy hand in command in a shooing motion. “Guards remove the intruders.”

After a moment of well-earned trepidation, the guards followed their marching orders.

“Tsk tsk, I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Swords and spears were aimed at the ready to cut and impale the intruders because if the intention was to intimidate, well, that wasn’t happening. 

“Gwthio.” _Push._ The lilac woman mimed the motion as her hands glowed.

The dozen or so guards closest in the approach were flung backward by a seemingly invisible force, colliding with those behind them in a heap of dinged and crumpled bodies. Some limbs stuck out at odd angles, clearly broken. Merlin prayed that their necks had been spared. 

“If you will not hear our petition, then my champion issues a challenge to Arthur Pendragon for a duel.” The lilac woman showed no sign that spectacular effect had drained her at all. _Magic takes stamina above all. The more incredible the trick, the more draining it is._

Apparently trying to seem undaunted by his forces be swatting away like mere flies, Uther sneered, “Is your companion dumb or just mute?”

The lilac woman parried Uther’s taunt. “They prefer to first speak with swords. Steel song, unlike men, cannot lie.”

On cue, the knight drew forth a long sword, of the same hue as the rest of their ensemble down to and including the hilt. Merlin half imagined it some particularly cutting branch sharpened but it glinted in the light as only metal could.

“The terms are single combat. The winner shall carry out their will as is right, to the victor goes the spoils.”

Now armed thanks to a guardsman, Arthur called back, “Challenge accepted.” _No._

Merlin wanted to rush forward or freeze time or figure out some way to stop events in their tracks. As it stood, all he could do was stand there dumb and mute, paralyzed.

It was so obviously a trick or a trap. Merlin understood that the image of backing down from a challenge of this nature could be damaging, but Arthur had nothing to gain and so very much to lose. Even so Arthur would never refuse a fight and face saving had nothing to do with it. _You stupidly brave goddamn prince._

Uther made no motion or word to stop his only son and heir from fighting a clearly dangerous enemy all on his own. _Cowardly bastard._

Merlin jockeyed forward, moving closer to the throne side of the room, trying to make his way to Gaius, Gwen, and most importantly Arthur. If things went sideways like he was anticipating, he needed to be there. He couldn’t just sit out the crisis, gaping like an idiot among the crowd.

“Will you at least give me the courtesy of armoring myself? Unless that champion of yours would care to strip down.”

“Merlin.”

Merlin started to attention, mind racing to how quickly and efficiently he could collect Arthur’s armor from his chambers. _Oh god am I really gonna have performance anxiety over something this stupid._

The lilac woman’s lips settled into a smirk. “Don’t worry Arthur Pendragon, we want a fair fight.” She waved away his concerns quite literally with one glowing hand directed Arthur’s way before Merlin could react. _Shit where are my reflexes._ “Arfswig.” _Armor._

Emerging from a plume of smoke, Arthur was fully equipped in his usual armaments, everything buckled and strapped in all the right places. Merlin was suspicious that maybe it was coated in poison or would crumple like paper upon connection with live metal. But Arthur didn’t seem notice anything wrong as he examined it.

_Hmm I really ought to write that spell down. Or better yet figure out a way to reverse it. Would save me a ton of time._

Which obviously should not be the priority at the moment.

Arthur stepped forward with sword raised ready to parry any untoward strikes. The green knight marched forward with a slow deliberate pace. Those wedding guests still seated hurriedly rushed to either wall, parting like the sea.

The lilac woman wore a grin like a devil.

Arthur and the mystery knight stood apart, staring each other down. Silence reigned, certainly not Uther who was relegated to the being merely another spectator.

Nimueh pronounced, “Dechrau.” _Begin._

A simple declaration of intent but said in the language of the Old Religion so it had the power of magic behind it. Both combatants leapt intro reach, steel crashing into steel, the sound ringing in the air.

Merlin couldn’t tell if Arthur was reacting to the word without understanding (because surely Uther would never have allowed him to understand a lick of the old tongue) or merely anticipating the mystery knight’s movements with his years of training.

They danced. _And here I thought the first dance was reserved for the bride._ Merlin had to jape because the dueling blades found Arthur on the defensive, just barely holding out from being overpowered. If he had to hazard a guess, the same sorcery that that enchanted the green knight that color was the likely culprit, lending some kind of supernatural strength. No ordinary man could so outmatch Arthur. 

After a particularly savage series of blows, the dance paused, the prince and the knight frozen, waiting to see who would change the rhythm. With incredible speed, the mystery knight charged. Arthur moved quickly to parry but was a half-breath too slow. The mystery knight seized the moment and pressed his advantage, shoving Arthur down on the ground with the force his of latest blow.

Arthur lay prone on his back, the breath knocked out of him. Merlin’s mind raced through possible spells should the mystery knight intend to finish his work. The simplest thing would be to summon the sword or have it fly out his hand, but that would be too obvious a spell, especially with so many witnesses fixated on the horrible scene before them. _And there’s no guarantee that the lilac woman wouldn’t just have some kind of counter spell at the ready._

The mystery knight removed his helmet to reveal a woman, her golden hair now freed from their iron prison falling on her shoulders and back. A gasp rippled through those in attendance. Merlin was most worried for Arthur’s ego. To be bested in a duel was already injury enough, but Arthur had inherited some of his father’s chauvinism and would feel an extra sting that he had been beaten in combat by the fairer sex.

“So much for Camelot’s champion, I’ve had more difficult fights with stray hedge knights.” The mystery knight crouched down and held the sword point ready to plunge in and end his life.

Gwen stepped forward now, back straight as the mystery knight’s sword. “You’ve made your point, claim your prize and let him go.”

Gwen seizing the initiative roused Uther from his stupor. “That girl does not speak for me.” _Because yes Uther putting down the common girl is priority in this situation where your one and only son’s life is being threatened._

“Who exactly are you?” Arthur coughed out.

The lilac woman laughed, high and clear like a mountain spring.

“My name is Nimueh, High Priestess of what you insult as the Old Religion when your own faith is but a passing fad.” She lowered her hood as she spoke, revealing an undeniably pretty face. Lips painted with what looked like blood shown violently against a face colored like a snowbank. Her dark hair was styled oddly, matted with a mess of braids and free strands seemingly at random. He supposed the intended effect was witchy but to his eye it just read like purposeful (and effortful) bedhead.

“Although you already knew all that Uther Pendragon.”

Merlin glanced at Uther shifting uncomfortably on his throne, hatred and fear commingling in his features.

“And I am Morgause, Vivienne’s daughter and Nimueh’s apprentice,” the blonde woman spoke with a voice that rasped like a blade against stone. “Hello there, little sister.” With her sword point still held at Arthur’s throat, she waved the fingers of her free hand at Morgana whose pallor made Nimueh look positively rosy.

Uther frowned and pouted on his throne. “Impossible I banished you. Gaius, did I not banish her?”

“You did, your grace.” Gaius looked as if he was seeing a ghost, which given that he has seen his fair share of supernatural phenomena over the years, was saying something. 

Merlin idly wondered how someone so powerful had been banished in the first place. _But that power would explain why she escaped execution. They probably wouldn’t have dared try it._

Uther sniffed distastefully, his reddening face the only visible sign of distress. “You are not welcome here.”

“That is the usual definition of a wedding crasher, is it not Morgause?”

“Ay, so it is.”

“And I’ll happily depart once my prize is claimed. These festivities need not be cancelled on my behalf. I merely require a Blood Royal as was promised to me in return for services rendered.”

“By who?” Arthur demanded, outrage being the last weapon available to him. 

Nimueh directed an accusatory finger towards the throne. “I was contracted by Uther Pendragon, third son of Constantine.”

Arthur squirmed but Morgause’s blade pressed down against his neck, drawing blood and putting an end to that bit of resistance. “Liar! My father would never sully his hands with magic.”

“Which is why he made so able use of mine.” Nimueh was pacing in a circle about Arthur, padding like a wolf guarding its kill from a rival pack. Her hands glowed a decidedly unnatural shade of blue, threatening any guardsman foolish enough to think they could intervene and save the day. “You are the proof Arthur Pendragon. You are the prince who was promised.”

“An heir to Camelot for a Blood Royal. The terms were sealed with blood under the watchful eye of a full moon.”

“Gaius, you may have conspired to exile me but you are a man of enough broken faith to know those terms are binding.”

Merlin looked to Gaius, who appeared terribly old, face flat and ashen but otherwise free of any emotion beyond a grim kind of acceptance.

Uther was anything but free of emotion. “Haven’t you stolen enough wench.”

Nimueh smiled at Uther’s impotent rage. “You foolish man. Only life can pay for life. You thought you could cheat the gods once and poor Ygraine paid the price. Don’t let your son follow in his mother’s footsteps.”

“Don’t you dare say her name.”

Morgause taunted Arthur now. “He must have told you that she died in childbirth. But it was your lifeforce draining hers. All her potential days becoming your own.”

Arthur’s body grew taut. Merlin prayed he didn’t try anything foolish. If Morgause’s blade didn’t put an end to any resistance, surely Nimueh’s magic would leave him right back where he started. _In the best case scenario._

While Arthur’s origin story unspooled like a thread, Merlin had finally shuffled all the way to the space before the throne where Gaius and Gwen stood.

“What’s this about royal blood?” Merlin hissed at Gaius.

Gaius responded without so much glancing at him, eyes fixated on the horrible scene before them. “It holds special properties that enhance magic, allowing for more powerful and longer lasting spells. It is also a key ingredient in summoning higher beings.”

Merlin frowned, “Like gods?”

“Some hold that view.” Merlin found his preternatural calm especially annoying with Arthur’s life hanging in the balance.

“Blood Royal? You mean to take Arthur?” Gwen spoke now, having reached the most obvious conclusion.

“She’s welcome to try.” Arthur punctuated the remark with another attempted struggle but whatever supernatural strength possessed Morgause did not let up.

Nimueh bent down and touched a glowing hand to Arthur’s forehead. Merlin didn’t like that one bit and hastily muttered under his breath, “Gwreichionen.” _Spark._

She pulled her hand back violently, sheltering it in the other, fingers flexing. She frowned but if she was surprised by the shock, her face hid it well. She continued to project the smooth control that she had used to intimidate those present. 

“Oh Uther you did your work well. You thought making him ignorant of magic would make him useless for my purposes.” _I suppose if he knew a lick about magic he would have caught on to me by now._

Uther indulged in a slight uptick at the corners of his mouth.

“And if it’s any consolation you’re right of course. I could have Morgause drive in that blade without a second thought and lose nothing. But Arthur isn’t the only potential candidate present now is he.”

Uther’s slight smile died prematurely. “You can’t mean to take me. I’d slit my own wrists first.”

In perhaps the only bit of credit he was willing to extend Uther, Merlin did not doubt the truth of those words.

Nimueh scowled. “Uther, king of pigs, you are only fit to feed swine. We mean your daughter.”

A murmur rose through those gathered who had previously been silent, rapt with attention and fear. It grew in each telling till the crowd practically rose in a cacophony not entirely unlike bird song.

Arthur was famously an only child. And while Uther having some kind of secret love child was not completely outside the realm of possibility- _if only because he is the king_ \- it seemed terribly unlikely.

Morgause crowed, “Oh sister dearest, aren’t you curious why we only have our mother in common. Wouldn’t you like to know the story of your conception?”

Uther started, “Don’t you da-”

“Tawelwch. _” Silence._

Uther clawed at his throat, mouth agape in a stupid expression. Blood rushed to his face, with the veins in his head looking close to bursting through his flesh. It mattered not; no sound escaped his lips.

Nimueh spoke now, “Long ago when Romans still roamed this land, this land had been one king. And ever since there have been those who sought to unite it under one king again. One king came close but was felled by Saxons.”

“But the king had three sons, who took it upon themselves to resume their father’s project. Constans, Ambrose Aurelian, and Uther.”

“It took two brothers to die in battle before Uther the Unready could claim the ambition he had so obviously desired all his life and seize his father’s inheritance.”

“The rest of his line extinguished, Uther Pendragon was now a king without an obvious heir. But before he employed my arts, he needed proof that his manhood was not in jeopardy. That his wife Ygraine was the barren one.” _Not gonna lie, this all tracks._

“Any woman would have fit his purposes but for his own satisfaction, he seduced the wife of his closest friend, Sir Gorlais. The man you called father.”

Morgana flinched.

“Manhood managed, he contracted me for a true heir of his body and that of his lady wife, not some baseborn girl as he so artfully put it at the time.”

“Wait, I’m older than Arthur.” Morgana spoke slowly, deliberately, thinking out loud. Her brow was furrowed in concentration.

“You knew I would pay the price in this deal.” Her voice rose in fury as she convinced herself of the rightness of her suspicion. “And you didn’t risk having any more children so that they couldn’t fulfill it. A convenient way to eliminate a loose end.”

Uther didn’t bother with a half-hearted denial. “Morgana have you ever wanted for anything? I raised you like my own.”

“Because I am yours!” Her voice cracked, unable to carry the full frustration and fury coursing through those words.

“And you raised me for slaughter like some common farm animal. I always thought you loved me, but I was just some pretty pet, a passing amusement here one day, to be gone the next, purpose served.”

Morgana’s eyes glowed dangerously. The whole throne room was trembling as if her building rage possessed it and shook the very foundations. The glass panes shattered in their frames raining down on the screaming wedding guests.

Merlin muttered under his breath, “Hawelen” _Breeze._ He collected the glass in the air and spirited it outside to avoid it hailing down on the bystanders.

Nimueh snapped into attention at this sudden display of magic, scanning the room, but thankfully couldn’t seem to locate its source. Merlin wasn’t sure he could win in a one-on-one battle, at least not with so many innocents that could be caught in the magical crossfire. _All these years of protecting Camelot from threats and I’m sitting here powerless and afraid._

“Mark these words, Uther Pendragon I will get my vengeance.” Morgana punctuated these words with a primal howl, a screech more terrible sounding than any string of obscenities. Merlin suspected it was being amplified by her magic was being released wildly like lightning.

Morgana lunged at the throne.

No one moved to intercept her to protect the king. Not even Gaius. Perhaps it was the latest shock in a day not short of them paralyzing them. Merlin could only speak to his own motivations. He would not lift another finger to defend Uther Pendragon. He was done. 

As Uther shrank back into himself, looking terribly worn down, Morgana laughed, high and cruel.

“At a time and place of mine own choosing. A quick death is a mercy you haven’t earned.” She spat in his face, before storming down the hall. Everyone in her path shrank back in fear. The only smiles in the room were on Morgause’s and Nimueh’s faces, one broad and toothy, the other slender but both triumphant.

Morgause removed her sword from Arthur’s Adam’s apple, sheathing it in its scabbard. She embraced Morgana like an old comrade. To Merlin’s surprise, Morgana reciprocated in kind, evidently finding comfort in her new sister.

Nimueh stepped forward offering a hand. She had doused her magic so it was only preternaturally pale. Morgana accepted. Merlin felt as if he was watching something important. He couldn’t yet decide if it was the end of something or the start. But an inflection point had been reached and the issue firmly decided in one direction. 

The two women flanked Morgana, escorting her away from Camelot and the wreckage left in their wake. The magical tremors subsided, leaving the throne room still standing, if only just. There seemed to be no serious injuries among the erstwhile wedding guests. But Merlin only cared about one thing.

Battered and bruised, Arthur managed to rise to one knee. Merlin rushed to his side. Heartbeats later, Gwen was at Arthur’s other side. Gaius was slower, his age showing more so than usual, but arrived to make a thorough inspection of the dazed prince.

Arthur was muttering to himself, voice hollow. “Morgana can’t be gone. Not like this. She wouldn’t leave me. They tricked her…” Merlin prayed onlookers couldn’t hear the tone or the words, but they all had eyes and could see the results of the duel as well as anyone.

Merlin thought about how he could argue. Point out once again how Uther had proven himself to be utterly worthless with even more crimes going decades back. That he could point out that Morgana had left willingly and without any seeming regret.

Instead, he murmured in Arthur’s ear, “We’ll get her back.” He offered a hand that Arthur grasped too tightly. “Together.”


End file.
